Hole in the Heart
by Lemondiva
Summary: Picks up from the end of Season 6, Episode 3. Jon struggles with the repercussions of his murder and a future without the Night's Watch, Sansa tries to keep her demons buried in the hope they will never see the light of day. They had never been close, but they were different people now and perhaps that would all change.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

 **Jon I**

Jon strode purposefully through the courtyard at Castle Black and felt 100 pairs of eyes boring into the back of his head. He would not look back. It was done, it was over, he was no longer the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. He felt free for a moment, but by the time he had reached his room the crashing realisation that he had no idea what he was doing had landed. He quickly locked the door behind him and stood still, in the middle of his room, staring at the fire. It felt strange being there, not just in the room but being there at all. In his entire life he had never felt this confused, this lost. It suddenly dawned on him it was not even his room anymore, it now belonged to the new Lord Commander. Jon opened the small trunk at the foot of his bed and began to pack his meagre belongings telling himself that he was doing so because of his practical nature and not because of the desperate need to distract himself from his increasingly alarming train of thought. There was a sharp double knock at the door.

"Jon? It's Ser Davos. May I come in?"

The voice was firm but polite and Jon found himself opening the door despite not meaning to. He stared blankly at Ser Davos. His brain couldn't think of anything to say let alone connect it to his mouth, so the man walked in and Jon locked the door behind him.

"I can imagine how you must feel son."

"I just hanged a child" Jon said numbly.

"I know, but he didn't give you a choice, none of them did, you had to do it and now it's done and you have to let it go".

"Why are you here?" Jon asked, changing the subject.

"Here at Castle Black or here in this room with you?"

"Both"

"His Grace, King Stannis ordered me to return to Castle Black and ask you again for support. When I found out he'd died I stayed because I hoped to be of some use to you. I understood what you were trying to do, you made peace with the wildlings because of the threat from the dead and you were right to. I also stayed because everything I had dedicated my life to and believed in had turned to ashes, and that's why I'm here in this room with you now, because the same thing just happened to you and I know how it feels."

Jon could do little other than stand there, his emotions fluctuating between white hot rage and hollow nothingness. None of this was directed at or because of Ser Davos, he just felt, well, incensed and devastated by the betrayal of his men, and of Olly most of all. He knew the look on Olly's face in the gallows, the hatred, would haunt him for the rest of his days. Bringing Longclaw down on that rope was just about the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. For a moment, he hadn't been sure he could do it, then, he hadn't been sure that he wanted to do it but Ser Davos was right, they hadn't really left him with any real choice.

"Have you eaten son?"

"What?" Jon responded shaking his head to break his reverie and somewhat confused by the question.

"When did you last eat?" Ser Davos said slowly as if talking to a halfwit. "You have wounds all over your body, you're in pain, you're weak and you're in shock. My guess is you haven't eaten for a while so I suggest you sit down by the fire whilst I go and get us some warm food and something to drink."

Ser Davos stood there waiting for Jon to respond and again, Jon found himself doing what was asked without intending to.

"I'm angry" Jon said as the old knight was walking out the door. Ser Davos stopped and turned.

"Of course you are son" he said and shut the door behind him.

Jon's eyes suddenly felt hot and his vision went blurry, all he could think about was his father. The blurring got worse rapidly, he could barely see the fire now and fear started crawling all over him. Was this a side effect of his death? It took a few more moments for Jon to realise what was happening. He was crying. Tears were pouring down his cheeks and he was shocked to find his head was in his hands only moments later. He was shaking because he was crying so hard and his ragged breaths were hurting the wounds in his chest, the holes, and that thought made him cry harder so it hurt even more. He found himself on the floor with his chest over his knees. He wanted so badly for his father to be there. He wanted to talk to him, to hear his voice but he couldn't because his father was gone, not waiting for him in some afterlife where they'd be reunited and his brothers and sisters would be there too, and Grenn and Pyp and Ygritte, they were all gone, there was nothing. The hollowness suddenly returned and he stopped crying, got up and sat back in his seat, wiped his eyes and became still again and went back to staring into the fire.

He didn't notice exactly when Ser Davos returned, he'd gone into some sort of trance and had no idea how long he had been there and whether others had come in and out and had seen him broken and on the floor. He wondered if his eyes were red and swollen and if the old man would say anything if they were. He felt embarrassed regardless and hadn't cried like that since Lady Catelyn had given him the beating of his life for fighting with Rob when he was about 7 or 8 years old. They'd been playing knights and decided if they were real knights they'd need to use real swords. He realised it wasn't the beating itself that had made him cry uncontrollably, it was because that was the moment he learnt she only cared what happened to Rob, she didn't love him at all, she didn't even care about him.

"I saw Ed and Tormund down in the mess hall. I said that you were resting and would see them tomorrow. Tormund said something about you bring a pretty girl and needing your beauty sleep or you'd be in a mood".

Jon was surprised that the faint smile gracing his face was genuine and was hopeful that despite being in an altered state he'd be able to come up with an appropriate response for his friend by morning. Ser Davos approached the table and pushed the paperwork Jon has been working on unceremoniously onto the floor and replaced it with two bowls of meat broth, some bread, cheese and ale. Jon looked down at the papers and up at Ser Davos.

"It's Ed's job now isn't it so he can sort it out tomorrow" he said matter-of-factly. "Hurry up lad the broth's getting cold".

Jon pulled his chair over and tentatively tried a spoonful of broth. Gods he was unbelievably hungry and preceded to attack the rest of the food like a man possessed. Davos didn't say a word about it and they spent the rest of the meal in companionable silence.

"I'm not sure what I am" Jon said after they'd finished dinner. He was absent mindedly staring at the wood grain in the table.

"You're a good man," Ser Davos said drawing Jon's attention and staring him straight in the eyes "don't doubt it and hold onto it. If you start to think you're not, remember there's about 5,000 wildlings safe and south of the wall because of what you did at Hardhome".

"I don't know what I'm going to do" Jon replied throwing the spoon he'd been playing with down on the table in frustration "I just know I can't be here".

"Ah, now, that one's a bit more difficult. You're going to need a bit of time to think things through. Ed said you can stay as long as you want and he kindly offered me the same courtesy, which is helpful, considering I'm in the same predicament" Ser Davos said with a wry smile. "I suggest we both try to get some rest".

"I'm not sure I can sleep, I'm not sure if I do I'll wake up!" Jon said suddenly slightly alarmed.

"Well you can't stay awake forever so best to find out sooner rather than later. I've found someone to watch over you while you try, and don't worry," he said with an impish grin, "it's not Tormund".

There was a familiar scratch at the door and when Davos opened it a blur of white fur came forward at some pace and launched at Jon's lap (which he had long been too big for). Jon nearly fell of his chair and Ghost couldn't get a foothold so just leapt back off him onto the floor.

"I'm concerned I made the wrong choice and you might not be as safe as I thought" Ser Davos said with mock sarcasm.

"Me too" Jon said trying not to give away just how it felt to be back with his much loved wolf. Ser Davos shut the door behind him.

"Did you miss me boy" Jon said to Ghost's eyes as he held him by the muzzle. The resultant whine and lick he took as a yes. "I missed you too" and he knelt on the floor giving Ghost the kind of hug he hadn't given him since he was a pup. The big dire wolf stilled and Jon buried his face in his fur which soon became wet from more tears, this time they weren't from sadness because despite everything he still had Ghost, his loyal, faithful wolf who would never betray him.

Jon realised he was spectacularly tired when he sat on the bed and barely managed to get his boots off before having to collapse under the furs fully clothed. He just about had time to feel Ghost jump onto the bed and curl up next to him before he fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 **Sansa I**

It was so cold that she couldn't feel her face any more and the inside of her bones had turned to ice. Sansa wasn't enjoying the journey north. The slow pace of the horses through the thick snow meant there was too much time to think, and that was the last thing she wanted to do. There was little in the way of conversation between the three travellers, each of them listening intently for any sounds that would indicate pursuit, or a potential meal. The silence only served to shred her already frayed nerves and she knew that the red waste wouldn't be far enough away from Ramsay to feel safe.

It had been three days since she had said goodbye to Theon and it felt like a piece of what remained of her heart had left with him. That had surprised her. He'd betrayed Rob, saved Bran and Rickon but murdered two innocent farm boys, beheaded Sir Rodrik and then, of course, saved her. She had hated him when she first returned to Winterfell, was disgusted and repulsed by him until she experienced the full force of Ramsay's depravity on her wedding night. Every day thereafter her husband dedicated himself to finding new ways to break her and Theon had to watch her being raped, beaten and tortured time and again. The shame she felt at him having seen every intimate part of her body during the sexual acts Ramsay had forced her into almost swallowed her whole, but by making Theon watch, he was torturing him as much as he was her because he was powerless to stop Ramsay and Ramsay knew it.

It was a strange and intimate relationship that began to evolve between them and she realised that Theon was perhaps the only person who would ever truly understand what Ramsay had done to her. How he took away her identity as a Lady, as a woman and as a human being little piece by little piece until what remained was something that looked like Sansa Stark, but bore no other resemblance to her. Their understanding of one another was deep and unspoken, they didn't need to share horror stories and when he said he would have died to get her to the Wall she knew he had meant every word. It would have been selfish and cruel not to let him go home once she had Lady Brienne as her sworn sword and she hoped upon all hope that he would arrive safely and find the comfort than had not accompanied her return to Winterfell.

"My lady, it might be wise to rest the horses now and warm ourselves with a fire while we have light," Brienne offered "it will be dusk soon enough and we've travelled a good distance today".

Brienne dismounted, walked over to Sansa's horse and helped her down. Sansa felt embarrassed by it, she certainly didn't feel like a Lady anymore and it was strange to be treated as such. Especially by another Lady who also didn't consider herself one to the extent that she refused the title.

"I doubt they'll catch us now," Brienne said in an effort to reassure her "they'd be as hampered by the snow and cold as we are and we're closer to the Wall than Winterfell".

"Do you think it's possible that they might be able to get ahead of us somehow and lay in wait?"

"There's only one road to the Wall my Lady and they would be fools to try to go through the forest. It's too dense and they would never be able to get ahead of us".

Podrick had walked up behind Sansa and she nearly jumped out of her skin when he suddenly spoke.

"Shall I get some wood and build a fire milady?"

"Yes Pod" Brienne replied to him but was staring at Sansa. She knew Brienne had seen it and that she probably knew why so Sansa spoke before Brienne could.

"Is there any more you can tell me about my mother, or brother, from your time with them?" She wondered if she sounded like a child asking for a bedtime story.

"I didn't really know your brother" Brienne said thoughtfully as they walked over to a fallen tree to sit on. She brushed the snow off and Sansa helped her, not wanting to be waited on.

"I heard things about him though from your mother, and some of the soldiers at the camp. I knew that he was brave and it was clear he had earned the respect of his men by the way they spoke about him. He was obviously an excellent strategist if he had gotten the better of Tywin Lannister on the battlefield and I learnt that it was his bannermen that declared him King, it was not something he'd proposed and he had my respect for that".

"I didn't know that," Sansa said with a sad smile "but I suppose it doesn't surprise me, it reminds me of our father".

"I found your mother to be a strong, courageous woman who loved her children above all else. After King Renly died we fled the camp and when I learned that you and your sister were being held hostage in Kings Landing, I wanted to help your mother in any way I could so I pledged my sword to her".

"Did you not want to return to your home?" Sansa enquired having noted that Brienne had used the words 'fled' and 'died' instead of 'left' and 'murdered' which she would come back to when the right opportunity presented itself.

"I felt I was of more use to your mother my Lady, and now, to you."

It was clear to Sansa that Brienne was withholding information but she would bide her time. Sansa had perfected the art of patience and knew playing the innocent would likely serve her best in this situation. She would observe and listen until she better understood Lady Brienne and could ascertain what she was hiding and why. Sansa thought wistfully of a time when she trusted people and didn't need to wear a mask, but it was so long ago she could barely remember what it felt like.

Podrick had returned with a pile of sticks and began attempting to start a fire, she watched Brienne watching him and could sense both frustration and something akin to admiration which she found interesting as he didn't seem to be very skilled in the most basic tasks.

"Do you think we might have a fire before nightfall Pod?" Brienne enquired somewhat brusquely.

"Of course milady" said Podrick "and some food." That comment earned him a raised eyebrow.

"You must be looking forward to being reunited with your brother my Lady" Brienne commented. Sansa balked but covered it.

"Yes" she said with a big smile and promptly ended her line of enquiry by rising and walking over to Podrick. She knelt by the embryonic fire that he'd built, it was little more than smoke but had at least just caught.

"Is there anything exiting for dinner Podrick?" Sansa asked politely without any real hope of there being so.

"I'll see what I can rustle up Lady Stark" he said with a warm smile.

"May the Gods show us mercy" Brienne muttered under her breath in jest just loud enough for them both to hear.

After their small meal of snow rabbit broth which unfortunately consisted of hot water, very little meat and a few too many rabbit hairs, they settled in for the night. It was already dusk and the fire would need to be put out shortly so Sansa focused on getting as warm as she could, a challenge considering she was in the clothes she had leapt from the walls of Winterfell in and had only a meagre blanket around her shoulders. She curled herself into a tight ball, tucked the blanket in around her and placed her palms together, interlacing her fingers and holding them to her chest, close to her heart, as she often did when she needed to feel calm.

The wind had dropped and she was tired enough that she might sleep if it wasn't for the thought of seeing Jon again that just wouldn't leave her alone. Her farewell to him when he had first left for the Wall was painfully awkward. She had walked up to him in the yard and told him that she hoped everything would go well for him in the future. He had thanked her then she smiled politely, turned and walked away because she didn't know what else to say. Brienne rose from the fireside announcing that she would walk the outskirts of their small camp before the fire was put out. Sansa stared into the flames as darkness began to fall and tried not to think of Jon. She failed. What expression would he wear when he first saw her? Would he be disappointed it was her and not Arya? The last one stung and she closed her eyes tightly as if it would somehow make that thought go away.

Jon had been so close with her little sister, one could argue even closer than he had been to Rob, and Arya had worshipped him. Her face would light up whenever she was with him, she would get frustrated if she hadn't been able to spend as much time with him as she wanted and although Sansa was aware this upset her mother no end, Arya was oblivious. Perhaps this was the reason that Sansa had always kept her distance from Jon, so that it would make her mother happy and compensate for what, at the time, she had perceived as a lack of loyalty on her sister's part. Arya was old enough to understand that he was a bastard and what that meant but she just didn't care, she loved him fiercely and they seemed to share a closeness that Sansa had never experienced with any of her siblings. Her mother was her closest friend and it suddenly occurred to her that it was likely she had always been ever so slightly jealous of Jon.

She was trueborn and he had been closer to her brothers and sister than she was. He had an ease about him around people and apart from her mother, she couldn't think of a single person at Winterfell that didn't like him, as much as they tried to hide it, and perhaps none more so than her father. Sansa had always known Lord Eddard loved Jon dearly and he, in turn, was his bastard son's hero. To a certain extent, she had kept her father at arms-length because, as with Arya, it had seemed disloyal and she had told herself that it was inappropriate for her Lord father to feel that way. How ridiculous that seemed to her now, that he should dare to love his own son! It pained her to realise she had perhaps been more than just a little jealous and her lack of closeness to her siblings was predominantly of her own making.

Sansa heard footsteps crunching in the snow and her whole body tensed like a wild animal that suddenly realised it had been stalked and could do nothing but wait for the death blow. Her eyes stayed shut and she held her breath whilst listening intently for clues as the footsteps got nearer to her head. They stopped just a few short paces from her.

"Best put out the fire now Pod" said Brienne, "I'll be standing guard just over here."

Sansa let go of the breath she was holding very slowly so as not to show that she was awake and afraid. Part of her felt silly but this was how she operated now, always hiding what she truly felt, it had keep her alive and she no longer knew how to not do it. It has become instinct. She saw the light level change behind her eyelids as the fire died and listened carefully to the sounds in the snow so she would know where Brienne was. She tried to think of a happy memory to break her thoughts of Jon but anything happy involved all the people that were now dead or lost to her so she settled on praying to the Gods she no longer believed in for good weather, good food and a good sleep that she knew would not come. They would soon reach the Wall.

 _Authors note: I hope you feel I've captured how Sansa might be feeling, it's actually been quite hard to write because of what she's been through. This is my first fanfiction so if you have time to review, it would be much appreciated._


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 **Davos I**

Davos had slept like the dead. Considering he'd been awake for two days it wasn't that much of a surprise. He rubbed his eyes and blinked a few times trying to make them focus before they were ready. The light coming through the small glass window seemed grey but then it was Castle Black in winter, the light was always grey and you had to rely on your stomach to tell you what time of day it was. Davos didn't feel very hungry so assumed it was early. His first thought was of Jon; the lad had been in a terrible way the night before and he considered checking on him but wanted to find Edd, Tormund, and Melisandre first.

Davos found himself thinking about her and how their relationship had changed. She'd always had an unshakeable belief in her visions and when Stannis died, her air of invincibility disintegrated. In a way it was a relief but it also disturbed him and whilst he had no interest in the Gods of this or that Davos had to hand it to her, she'd certainly exceeded expectations by bringing Jon back. He'd have to put a stop to all this 'prince that was promised' bollocks though, that's not what Jon needed.

His musings were interrupted by his body pointing out that it was freezing bloody cold so Davos dragged himself out of bed, splashed his face with icy water, straightened his clothing and despite realising he probably smelt like a small farmyard, left the room and headed down the slippery wooden steps to seek his companions. He decided to start with the mess hall and by happy coincidence, Ed and Tormund were there. He gave them a nod of greeting before helping himself to a small plate of cheese and black bread, and a horn of ale.

"Morning lads" he said in greeting as he settled himself on the bench beside Tormund.

"What are you so bloody cheerful about?" asked Edd.

"What are you so bloody miserable about," Davos replied "he's alive isn't he?" Tormund smiled into his ale in amusement.

"Have either of you seen Lady Melisandre?" Davos said looking around the room.

"No, why?" Edd asked.

"Because I don't want her bothering Jon with all the Lord of Light crap" Davos said in a conspiratorial whisper.

"Are you his mother?" Tormund enquired. Edd chuckled. "Jon can look after himself. He's lived among the free folk, fought the living dead and killed a white walker so I'm sure he can handle the red woman".

"How was he last night?" Edd asked.

"He wasn't the best" Davos replied, not wanting to go into details.

"I still can't believe he's left the Watch," Edd exclaimed "he's our leader, we need him."

"Give it a little time lad, he's just come back from the dead. That's not a thing a man expects to have to deal with" Davos said. He found himself thinking he might take Jon some food but stopped because Tormund was right, he wasn't his bloody mother, Jon would make an appearance when he was ready.

"He can stay at Castle Black as long as he wants and I've already said as much," Edd stated "but we can't guard him day and night. There are still people here that want him dead."

"He can stay with us," Tormund offered "he saved a lot of lives at Hardhome and the free folk won't forget that, he'll be safe."

"Or is it just that you want to keep me all to yourself Tormund?" a familiar voice said over his shoulder.

"Your breasts aren't big enough for my liking" Tormund shot back trying not to smirk as he stood and pulled Jon into a friendly hug and slapped him on the back before sitting back down and taking a huge mouthful of cheese.

"He's definitely not right," said Edd looking straight at Jon "that's two jokes in less than a day and they were both funny." Jon smiled and gave Ser Davos a nod of acknowledgment as he walked over to get some food. A hush fell over the mess hall and the three men discreetly placed their hands on the hilts of their swords. Jon returned safely and sat opposite Sir Davos, next to Edd. It didn't escape any of their attention that Jon was no longer in black.

"Have you seen Lady Melisandre this morning?" Davos asked Jon. Tormund rolled his eyes theatrically.

"No, should I have?"

"Not really, just wondered." Jon didn't say anything in response and went about eating his breakfast. A slightly uncomfortable silence followed made worse by the sound of Tormund's loud munching, then Edd spoke.

"So how are you feeling, you know, the wounds and everything?"

"They hurt," a typical Jon response "and I'm not sure if they're going to heal well. I've six holes in me including one through the heart and I was dead so…." Jon trailed off and despite passing it off with a shrug, Davos could hear the anger simmering underneath.

"Perhaps Lady Melisandre might be able to help," Davos suggested "I've seen her do things you wouldn't believe, including bringing you back." Jon nodded his head in agreement. Davos didn't really want to involve her but helping Jon was more important than his concerns about her religious beliefs.

"I'll bring her to your quarters after we finish eating then."

"They're not my quarters anymore" Jon said matter-of-factly.

"We haven't had a vote yet so they're yours until then" Edd said with conviction.

"Jokes aside, you're welcome to come live with us" said Tormund.

"and I appreciate it but I've decided to head south". Tormund stopped eating mid-chew.

"But you can't," said Edd alarmed "what about the white walkers and the army of the dead marching on the Wall?"

"That's for the new Lord Commander to deal with" Jon said calmly.

"Where will you go?" Davos asked, trying to keep his composure.

"My family are all dead, I've lived in the North all my life but the Bolton's are liege lords now so I can't stay and anyway, I'm tired of the cold" he said with a small smile. "I want to see more of Westeros, perhaps I'll go to High Garden or Dorne".

"Dorne" Tormund said incredulously.

"I know you'll miss me terribly Tormund but I promise to come and say goodbye before I go." Tormund nearly dropped his ale.

"That's three, this one's not funny though" Edd said getting angry. Davos knew he needed to take the heat out of the situation. Jon had finished eating which presented a small opportunity.

"Have you finished packing?" Davos asked Jon.

"Not quite."

"Why don't you do that and by the time you've finished I'll be there with Lady Melisandre."

"Sounds like a plan," Jon said as he stood slowly "I'll see you all later." They sat in silence and watched him walk out of the mess. Edd looked at Davos.

"Have you finished packing!" Ed repeated back to Davos, exasperated.

Tormund sighed heavily. "I thought he would be the one to lead us through the long night. I must have been wrong" he said, demoralised.

"Listen the pair of you," Davos said "it's not over yet and getting angry with him is only going to push him in the wrong direction."

"He's packing!" said Edd raising his voice. "What am I supposed to do about the leadership of the Night's Watch?"

"Organise the vote for two days' time," said Davos quietly "it will settle the men and buy us some time. It will also show Jon that the Watch is moving on and it might give him the jolt he needs."

"And it might do the opposite" Edd protested.

"We don't really have a choice," Davos whispered in reply "and Tormund, you should stay, Jon has a lot of respect for you but it might ease tensions if your men go back. I'll test the ground with Jon when I take Lady Melisandre to him".

Tormund nodded despondently and left. Edd got up a moment later and hesitated. Davos could tell he wanted to throw something, quite possibly a punch, but he controlled himself, and walked out of the mess slamming the door behind him. Davos took a deep breath and followed him out heading for Melisandre's room.

It was clear to Davos that Jon wasn't thinking straight. He'd seen leaders make some awful decisions over the years, usually based on greed, the desire for power, impatience or fear. He hadn't seen Jon display any of these before, something Davos considered quite rare, but this was surely fear talking. One of the first things Jon had said when he came back was that he'd failed, yes, he was having a crisis of confidence alright and it was going to take time and the right approach to fix it.

Davos took the steps to Melisandre's room two at a time and knocked boisterously. She opened the door looking tired and like she'd just got out of bed.

"Did I wake you?" Davos asked as he walked in.

"How is he?"

"Quite calm, some anger, he's decided he's leaving and going south, he's packing."

"What?" she said looking confused and slightly panicked. "He can't."

"I know, but that's where he's at. It's not over yet" he tried to reassure her. She clearly felt the same as the rest of them. "He's in pain from the wounds, can you do anything, perhaps delay him for a day?"

She thought for a moment, "I'll try".

"I'm going to head over to his room now, give me a little time to talk to him," he turned to leave then hesitated "listen, I know you believe this is all part of a prophecy but I'd greatly appreciate it if you didn't bring it up with him again, it's not the time."

"Then when is the time?"

"I don't know but I know it's not now." She paused and stared into his eyes which made him feel uncomfortable, finally she nodded.

Davos breathed a sigh of relief and headed quickly to Jon's room. He stopped at the door and was about to knock but found himself closing his eyes. He didn't believe in the Gods, he'd never prayed to any of them yet but there he was whispering to them "help _"_. He gave a double knock on the door and Ghost barked.

"Come in."

Davos opened the door and walked in not quite knowing where to start. "You're looking a bit better today."

"I slept heavily" Jon said with a small smile and sat at the table indicating Ser Davos should sit opposite.

"I understand the decision you've made, the practical reasons, but leaving the Night's Watch and free folk to face the dead alone?"

"One more person isn't going to make a difference."

"You don't know that, and you're not just any person, you're their leader."

"I was the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch; Tormund leads the free folk."

"and Tormund follows you meaning you're their leader". Jon put his elbows on the table, interlaced his fingers and leaned towards Davos.

"What difference does it make who the leader is Ser Davos? We are outnumbered by at least ten to one, probably a lot more. I sent letters to every Lord in the North, the Liege Lords of all the other kingdoms and the King himself explaining the situation and asking for more men, none came. The dead will kill everyone at the Wall and add them to their number before climbing over it and marching through Westeros. Do you disagree with that assessment?"

"No, I don't," Davos conceded "but I believe you are the only man that can give us a chance."

"How?" Jon stood and stared at him, a definite hint of irritation in his words. "Do you think that there is some miraculous strategy that only I can come up with that will save us all? I tried, I gave everything I had, including my life. There is no strategy that can change the fact that they are too many and we are too few. If you think there is, perhaps you should take the black and put yourself forward to be Lord Commander."

Davos took a deep breath. Whilst Jon had certainly lost confidence in himself he couldn't disagree with anything he'd said. It was a rational assessment from a proven battle commander and leader.

"Do you not have a wife, a family?" Jon asked more gently.

"I have a wife, in Kings Landing".

"Do you not love her?"

"I love her very much" Davos replied somewhat affronted.

"Then why are you not leaving on the fastest horse to go to her?"

It was really quite frustrating to try to argue with someone as intelligent as Jon who kept asking good questions. Why wasn't he on his way back to his wife?

"Because I believe in you, I want to follow you and help you in any way I can" Davos said honestly "and I'm no coward".

Jon spoke to him softly "Neither am I and I'm grateful for your faith in me, truly I am, but this is a battle we cannot win. I have proved my valour on numerous occasions, to others and to myself, now I want to embrace what life I have left. Perhaps you should do the same."

There was a knock at the door and Melisandre walked in, looking Jon up and down.

"Take off your clothes."

Jon was clearly taken aback and Davos couldn't help but smile.

"Don't worry lad, I'll stay and protect your honour."

Davos knew he had been defeated. Jon was a quietly formidable young man and Davos liked him immensely, even more so after the conversation they'd just had and he understood why he was respected, and feared. Jon began to take his leathers off, but Davos saw he was struggling so he walked round the table and started to help. The wounds in his chest looked no better.

"They must be cleaned and stitched, I will do it now then you must rest." She had bought some bottles of liquid of who knows what and started to clean Jon's wounds.

"I'm not sure what to say to you," Jon said to her honestly "I'm not exactly pleased you brought me back but I do appreciate the effort you made and I'm sorry if I've disappointed you by choosing to leave."

"I saw you in the flames in a battle at Winterfell."

"Maybe the Bolton's catch me."

"There were thousands of men, they will not catch you."

"Could you be wrong?" Jon asked leaving out the word 'again'. She hesitated.

"I have been wrong before, but not about this."

"I suppose we'll find out in time" he said and took a sharp intake of breath as the first stich went in.

While he watched Melisandre stitch Jon up he contemplated what it would be like to see his wife again after so long and whether instead, he would die fighting the dead with the men of the Night's Watch. He must have been daydreaming for some time as he suddenly noticed Melisandre had finished. Davos went to help Jon dress; he was covered in sweat from the pain of the stitching.

"Before you put that back on lad best wash yourself down, I'll give you a hand".

"You must rest today. Tomorrow we will see if you're doing better" Melisandre stated.

"No, I'll be leaving today, but thank you" Jon replied firmly.

Melisandre looked at Davos pleadingly. He understood how she felt but knew they had to let him go.

"I agree Jon's going to need to take a little time to recover but if he wants to leave today we should respect that. Could you let the others know and have someone get his horse ready with some supplies?" She looked a little shocked but nodded reluctantly.

"I will see you again Jon Snow" she said and walked out the door.

"She has a flare for the dramatic that one" said Davos with a raised eyebrow. "You will need to rest up a little though before you get up on that horse, you can still make it to Mole's Town by sundown and head off again in the morning. What about Ghost, are you taking him with you?" Jon froze. He had his back turned so Davos couldn't see his face.

"I can't" he said shakily, especially across Bolton lands, they'll realise who I am and I'll lose my head, or worse. I'll leave him with the free folk, he's not safe here." Ghost seemed to be aware what was happening because he gave a little whine, got up from where he had been laying and started pacing around.

"I don't think any of us are safe anywhere" Davos exclaimed.

"No I suppose not".

"Lie down and rest a bit lad, I'll stay and wake you before the sun reaches its zenith". Jon acquiesced.

It was painfully clear to Davos that if he had decided to leave his wolf with whom he was linked by the very soul, his decision was final. Jon had a stubborn streak and whilst he did seek council from others, once his mind was made up that was that. The only person that could change Jon's mind now was Jon. As the young man slept Davos realised that he was strangely comforted by what Melisandre had said, even though Jon was leaving. He closed his eyes.

"Would you mind helping with this?" Jon was pointing to the small trunk. "I hate to ask but I'm still in pain".

"Of course son. Sorry, I think I dozed off" said Davos rubbing his face.

"Yes, you did" he said kindly. Jon opened the door and a blast of frozen air whipped through the room. Davos picked up his belongings and walked out into the cold with Jon and Ghost behind him. When they reached the yard, Tormund and Edd were already there. Davos started strapping the small chest behind the saddle on Jon's horse and watched him close the space to Edd.

"You'll make a good Lord Commander" Jon said. It was a little awkward.

"Maybe. Take care Jon" Edd hugged him briefly if a little stiffly and walked away towards the mess hall. Davos noticed Jon's shoulders stiffen as he watched Edd walk away before turning to Tormund.

"Take Ghost for me?" Tormund stared at Jon for a few moments in disbelief, finally he nodded. Jon bent down to Ghost.

"Be good for Tormund boy, look after them all for me." He ruffled the fur on his head, pulled one of his ears and kissed him once on the muzzle. Ghost let out the most pitiful sound Davos had ever heard from an animal and he'd heard animals slaughtered. He saw Jon wince in pain, and not of the physical kind.

Davos had finished securing the trunk, he took a deep breath and walked round to the other side of the horse and held out his hand.

"Take care of yourself son" he said warmly as Jon grabbed his hand and shook it.

"You too Ser Davos."

He hadn't known Jon very long but was as impressed with him as Stannis had been. All Jon had wanted to do was protect people. If that meant brokering peace with enemies he did it, it if meant turning left when everyone else turned right he did it, if it meant putting himself in grave danger he did it. Yes, Jon had both courage and conviction and was a natural leader, people saw that in him and wanted to follow him, the free folk saw it, half the Night's Watch saw it, Davos saw it, but his Watch had ended.

Jon climbed on his horse and took a look around the yard. The other men from the Watch were all staring at Jon, some of them acknowledged his departure with a nod, others just stared. Then Jon got on his horse, nudged him gently and the horse started to walk out the gate of Castle Black. Jon looked up to the balcony where Melisandre always stood. He gave her a nod but she just stared back at him. The only sound that could be heard was Ghost. As Jon's horse carried him out the gate the wolf released a howl of such agony Davos's eyes watered. Jon had left, and hope had left with him.

 _Authors Note: That was a bit of a long chapter! Thanks for all the fabulous reviews and I'm working hard to get the next chapter up before episode 4 on Sunday as I don't want what happens in the TV show to influence my plans for this story. On to Sansa..._


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 **Sansa II**

It was slow going up the hill as the fresh snow concealed a treacherous layer of ice. Sansa's breath caught as her horse slipped and tried valiantly not to fall, he was as weak and tired as she was but thankfully managed to get a foothold again. She felt giddy and sick, which was hardly surprising under the circumstances, and for the first time on their journey she was glad for the icy air.

"Are you alright my Lady?" Brienne called from her mount a few paces ahead.

"Yes, thank you." She lied.

Brienne reached the brow of the hill and stopped.

"What is it?" Sansa said urging her horse on.

When she reached the top her mouth dropped open in awe of the sheer majesty of it. She hadn't really thought about the Wall itself during their journey, of what it would look like, and it was higher and more imposing that she could have possibly imagined. Sansa dismounted, dropped to her knees and promptly threw up, whether from the sight of the Wall, the thought of seeing her brother again or something else she didn't know. Brienne's hand was suddenly on her back.

"Are you alright my Lady?"

Sansa nodded "better now" she managed.

"We'll be there shortly then we can rest and you'll be with your brother" she said reassuringly.

It was early in the morning and they had started out as soon as there had been a hint of light. No-one had slept that night because of the bitter cold but despite being so close to the Wall, it would have been madness to continue in the dark. She started to run through her reunion with Jon for the umpteenth time. Should she hug him? What if he pulled back from her? She was driving herself mad and needed to pass the time so decided to just take deep breaths, count to 100 and then start again. She was close to 3,000 when Brienne's horse stopped suddenly and Sansa nearly ran into the back of her. Before them was a big, badly broken wooden gate. Had there been a battle? It opened slowly as a horn sounded and they walked their horses though. A man in black greeted them.

"Who rides into Castle Black?" he enquired.

"I'm Brienne of Tarth, this is my squire Podrick Payne and this is Lady Sansa Stark. May we see the Lord Commander please?"

"We no longer have a Lord Commander" he stated.

Of all the scenario's Sansa had played out in her head this had not been one of them.

"Where is Jon Snow?" Sansa asked.

"He's gone" he replied.

Sansa's mouth went dry, she felt bile rising and tried not to faint "what happened to him?" she blurted out in a state of panic.

"A lot of things," he replied cryptically "he left yesterday afternoon."

He was alive, the relief was indescribable and a wave of emotional exhaustion rippled through her. A small crowd of men were gathering and one was walking towards them with considerable purpose.

"Sir, this is Lady Sansa Stark" their greeter said to him.

"Bloody hell," the man said staring at her in shock "you'd better come with me, your brother left me in charge, I'm Edd, oh…sorry for the language. Damon will take care of the horses."

They dismounted and followed him into a warm room, there were two other people inside.

"This…...is Lady Sansa Stark" Edd said.

"This is Brienne of Tarth, my sworn sword and Podrick Payne, her squire" she said.

The man in the room was clearly stunned "I'm Ser Davos Seaworth, I was Hand to Stannis Baratheon before his death and I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance". She felt Brienne flinch.

"I'm Lady Melisandre of Asshai," the woman said smiling mysteriously "and I also served King Stannis". Sansa immediately felt uncomfortable but turned her attention back to Edd.

"I don't understand why my brother isn't here, the man at the gate said there was no Lord Commander and that Jon was gone so I thought he meant dead. I didn't think you could just leave the Night's Watch?"

"It's complicated," Edd said "I suggest that we get you all some warm food and we'll speak once you're rested. Then I'll take you to the free folk, they have a camp just a few hours from here. I assume you've had a long journey?"

"Free folk?" Sansa was confused.

"You know them as wildlings but they're our friends now, well, Jon's friends, and you'll be safer there than at Castle Black."

"Jon is friends with the wildlings?" Sansa was sceptical.

"Why would Lady Sansa be unsafe at Castle Black?" Brienne asked, concerned. "Is she in danger?"

There's a lot of unsavoury characters here, she'll be safer at the camp," Davos replied.

"A wildling camp" Brienne said, unconvinced.

Sansa took a deep breath and asked the question she didn't want to ask. "Has my brother done something wrong, something terrible even?"

"No," Edd said with conviction "your brother is the bravest man I've ever met." Sansa exhaled, both relieved and, she realised, proud, but still utterly confused.

"I want you to tell me what happened now, yes we've had a difficult journey, from Winterfell, but I need to know."

"I understand," said Edd.

"I'll ride to Mole's Town now and find Jon, I'll meet you at the camp" Ser Davos said.

"Stop in the kitchen and get someone to bring some soup and bread would you?" Davos nodded and left.

Lady Melisandre didn't move until Edd gave her a raised eyebrow. "I'll join you on the ride to the camp," she stated as she left.

Edd walked over to the fire and added a few more logs, Sansa was looking around the room.

"Jon's room" he said having seen her surveying it.

Sansa nodded and remained composed as she sat down at the table though felt anything but. Edd began to tell her about her brother and some of it wasn't easy to hear. He'd not been popular when he arrived at Castle Black, a high-born bastard who was smarter and a better swordsman than everyone else. She would have thought they'd be grateful but apparently not; how lonely it must have been for him, not wanted at Winterfell and not wanted at Castle Black either. Edd told her how he'd become a prisoner of the wildling King so he could infiltrate them then escaped to warn the Night's Watch of their plans to attack. He'd been badly wounded and nearly died but when the attack came, he took command and led them to victory. Edd explained how badly outnumbered they were and knowing this, Jon went North of the Wall alone to sue for peace.

Sansa was staggered by his courage, it made her want to cry and she found herself thinking about her mother and wondering whether her feelings for Jon would have changed if she knew what he'd done. Then Edd told her about the white walkers and the army of the dead and she was lost for words. It wasn't that she didn't believe him, it was just so terrifying it didn't sound real. Jon had apparently convinced King Stannis to give him ships to help save the wildlings and he'd sailed to a place called Hardhome. The dead had attacked and Jon led the fight against them, even killing a white walker, though thousands of free folk were lost. Nothing could have prepared her for what came next.

"Many of the Night's Watch didn't understand what Jon was trying to do. He'd told everyone what happened at Hardhome, that we were facing an army of 100,000 or more but they were so blinded by prejudice they branded Jon a traitor and, I don't really know how to say it…they killed him".

"What?" Sansa couldn't comprehend what she was hearing. "Then, but, who is Ser Davos going…"

"The red woman, Lady Melisandre, she's some sort of witch and, well, she said a spell over his body and Jon, he woke up. I was there, I saw the whole thing."

"Are you certain he was dead to begin with?" Sansa asked trying desperately to make sense of it.

"He was stabbed six times, including once in the heart and lay on a slab for more than a day so yeah, I'm certain he was dead."

The graphic detail hit her hard but she pulled herself together "and he's no longer the Lord Commander because of that?"

"The oath we swear says our watch will not end until our death. Jon died so was freed from his vows. Most of us wanted him to continue, we need him you see, but he wanted to leave. It's true that there are still some that hate him and that's why it's not safe for you here. Jon gave the free folk land in the Gift and agreed with them that when they time came, they would join us in the fight but now I don't know what's going to happen, other than it's likely that we're all going to die of course, because they're coming for us".

There was a knock at the door. Sansa saw Brienne's hand go to her sword for which she was grateful but it was only men bringing food and buckets of hot water.

"It's a lot to take in I know so I'll leave you in peace for a while, eat, bathe, get warm and then we'll leave for the camp, it's not far but I need to be back at Castle Black by nightfall".

"Thank you for talking with me, and for your hospitality" Sansa said politely. Edd nodded and as he was leaving he turned to her.

"He thinks you're dead you know."

"I know" she said sadly as he shut the door behind him.

"I don't want to talk" Sansa said and she was grateful for their understanding. They ate their meal of soup, bread and cheese in silence until Brienne sent Podrick away to bathe elsewhere and filled the bath for her. As Sansa sat there in the water an almost overwhelming sense of sadness swept over her. She knew she should be happy Jon was alive but he'd also been murdered, stabbed in the heart, just as Rob had been and the army of the dead were coming for them all. If there were any Gods at all, how could they allow that to happen, and for good men like Rob and Jon to be murdered while monsters like Ramsay lived. She looked down at her body, it made her feel sick, the evidence of what he'd done all over her. She tried to imagine the bathwater washing away every trace of him but it didn't really work. She realised the water was getting cold so dried herself off and insisted that Brienne use it too, it was difficult to persuade her because she didn't think she could defend her properly but she eventually agreed.

Soon they were back on their horses and on their way to the camp. Lady Melisandre was with them and Sansa didn't know what to say to her so said nothing. It was mid-afternoon when they arrived but the light was already fading. They stopped at a large tent and Edd signalled for them to dismount. A huge red-haired man appeared with two young women.

"Edd? What's happened, who are these people?" he said.

"It's hard to know where to start but this... is Jon's sister, Lady Sansa Stark." The man stared at her in disbelief. "She turned up at Castle Black this morning and I was hoping that she could stay with you, for safety" Edd said expressing his concern. "Ser Davos has gone to find Jon."

There was a whining sound and someone poked their head around the entrance to the tent. Ghost? Sansa kneeled and he bounded over to her whining and licking her face. He'd got so big but was so beautiful, she was ecstatic and began petting him fiercely.

"He's such a good guard wolf" the man said sarcastically. "I'm Tormund Giantsbane and these are my daughters Elinne and Anja. I'm the leader here and friend to your brother so you're welcome to stay."

"I'm grateful and pleased to meet you, I understand you and my brother fought together at Hardhome. I'm sorry that so many of your people were lost." Sansa said sincerely.

He nodded in gratitude. "Who are your friends?"

"This is Brienne of Tarth, my protector and her squire, Podrick Payne."

"My daughters will organise tents, furs and firewood to keep you warm. It will be dark soon and a snow storm is coming so I doubt your brother will arrive tonight. Red woman, you may stay but you will not use any magic here, if you do, your God will not be able to save you from my sword."

After the tents were organised they all went with Elinne and Anja to collect wood and furs, the light was low by the time they finished and it had started snowing heavily. Sansa spent longer than she would have liked arguing with Brienne about her standing guard. Brienne needed to rest too and Sansa had Ghost, she also wanted to be alone. Eventually Brienne capitulated and Sansa spent hours arranging her tent, making a bed, putting furs by the fire and making it as homely and warm as she could. She didn't really know why as she probably wouldn't be there long but it made her feel better somehow.

She sat on the furs by the fire with Ghost curled up beside her. They were both warm and sleepy and she'd been rhythmically stroking the fur between his ears for half the night, it was so relaxing, she was contemplating sleeping on the ground with him rather than in the bed when suddenly his ears pricked up.

"What is it boy?" she whispered.

Ghost was on high alert and without warning he flew out the tent. She quickly and quietly followed him outside but couldn't determine which way he'd gone. She looked up at the sky but there was no moon or stars and the heavy snow falling in her eyes made her blink rapidly and disorientated her. It was late at night so there was no campfire light to guide her and sound didn't travel far in these conditions. She slowly and carefully tip-toed back inside, her breathing had quickened and she was shivering violently. She heard Ghost whine somewhere nearby and fear gripped her. Should she call out for help?

She crouched down as if to hide and listened, she thought she could hear something or someone outside. Suddenly the tent flap moved and Ghost's head poked through. She exhaled loudly "you scared me" she whisper-shouted at him "where did you go?" He trotted over nonchalantly and started licking her hand so she stroked and patted him. Then she saw something out of the corner of her eye and froze. There was a pair of boots standing in the tent. The boots took a step towards her, then another and she took a sharp intake of breath. She stood slowly, stared into the darkness and tried to speak but no words came out.

"Sansa?" a voice whispered.

It was his eyes she saw first, almost black, like his hair. She couldn't remember how to breathe properly and as hot tears splashed onto her cheeks she started shaking her head in disbelief. Was he really standing there in front of her? Jon closed the space between them, wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. Tears turned into quiet sobs and her whole body began to shake. He stroked her hair then gently pulled her head into his shoulder and pressed a kiss onto her forehead. He was bigger and stronger than she remembered.

She nestled into his neck and held onto him, he was warm and cold at the same time and she never wanted him to let go. As the tears gradually slowed her breathing returned to normal and she became aware that he was gently rocking her. She felt his chest expand and contract as he breathed in synchronicity with her and a deep sense of calmness enveloped her. She listened to the crackling sound of the fire as he held her and closed her eyes. For the first time in a long time, she felt safe.

 _Authors Note: I hope you liked that. A huge thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favorited or is following this story. Next, Jon._


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

 **Jon II**

"I thought you were dead" he whispered into her hair tightening his grip around her. She looked up and even in the darkness he could see her piercing blue eyes. Jon tried hard not to let any tears fall but one broke free and she immediately reached for his face and tenderly wiped it away with her thumb. He took hold of her hands, closed his eyes then rested his forehead on hers and they stood there for a few moments just breathing.

"Are you alright?" she looked up and gently touched his chest.

Gods they must have told her. "You know what happened?"

She nodded, her face crumpled and she buried her head in his shoulder.

"I'm fine, really," he tried to comfort her by stroking her hair "the wounds still hurt a bit but I'm alright."

"I can't believe they did that to you" she muffled into his body.

"No, neither can I" he said with a hint of bitterness.

"They said you wouldn't be here until tomorrow because of the snow storm" she said looking at his face.

"I wanted to get here, I couldn't believe it was really you."

"It's me," she said letting out a little laugh "you must be frozen."

"I'm used to it" he smiled softly.

Sansa pulled at his hand and walked him over to the furs by the fire where they sat down. He could see her more clearly in the firelight, she'd been a girl when he last saw her but was very much a young woman now, tall too but still as delicate as ever. They were still holding hands and he thought about letting go but despite feeling a little awkward, didn't really want to. They had never been close, far from it, but she was his sister nonetheless and the contact was nice.

"What are you thinking about?" she had been staring at him.

"The past" he said cautiously. Sansa took her hand from his slowly and placed it in her lap.

"'I've been thinking about it too, all the way here actually and I'm so sorry" she said "how I treated you, I was..."

He could see tears forming in her eyes again "there's no need to be sorry, I always understood. You were so close to your mother and my being there hurt her and…"

"The others didn't react like me though, Arya especially, she was practically your shadow."

"It was different, you and I, we didn't really have much in common. I never really dreamt of marrying a handsome prince" he said, hopeful that she would take it the spirit it was meant.

She smiled sadly "that didn't work out too well for me."

"What happened to you Sansa?" he was deeply concerned.

"Many things, far too many to talk through in the middle of the night and I'm tired, you must be too."

"I am." His sister had just deftly shut the conversation down but this wasn't the time to pursue it.

"Sleep in here?" she said.

"Of course. Right here by the fire."

Sansa leaned over to give him another hug "don't leave the tent before waking me, I don't want to think that I dreamt it all."

"I won't."

Jon lay down and watched his sister climb under the furs and settle. Ghost padded over to her giving him the cold shoulder, Jon could hardly blame him and wondered if Ghost knew how it had near killed him to abandon him like that. It was hard not to laugh out loud when he realised he was thinking on how to make amends to a wolf.

Sansa was soon sleeping and a fierce sense of protectiveness washed over him. Gods, if she knew the state in which Ser Davos had found him earlier that day, at an Inn in Mole's Town in bed with a whore after drinking himself into near stupor, she would be disgusted. Ser Davos had apparently knocked on the door several times but Jon didn't hear and woke to the man shaking him, it was so embarrassing, that wasn't the kind of man Jon thought he was. Ser Davos told him he needed to come with him now and would say more when they were alone, so she'd gotten out of bed and not only washed in front of Ser Davos but also asked for payment. His hands had gone over his face just as they did now as he lay by the fire remembering, he'd been mortified, he'd never done anything like that before and was full of shame. Despite not having known Ser Davos long he knew the old knight respected him but that would have diminished now, like Maester Lewin's would if he'd behaved in a way that wasn't becoming for a son of Eddard Stark. Jon wanted that respect back but it would have to be earned.

When Ser Davos told him that Sansa had arrived at Castle Black his first thought was that it was some kind of ruse but couldn't believe Ser Davos would do something that cruel. His second thought was that is wasn't Sansa but when Ser Davos described her he dared to believe it might be true and had scrubbed himself red with pine soap praying that if it was her, the smell of alcohol and cheap scent would go undetected. When he heard she'd been at Winterfell Jon was beside himself. How long had she been there and what had been done to her? How did she even get to Winterfell? He tried not to let his mind run wild because sleep was the priority and she was here in the tent, safe, and they would talk when they were both well-rested. His body ached, his chest still hurt and he had the mother of all hangovers but managed to make himself comfortable and eventually, sleep took him.

The next thing he knew was the feel a woman's hand touching his arm and for the briefest moment he wondered where he was.

"Jon" she said softly.

He opened his eyes and saw Sansa smiling. "I haven't opened my eyes to a better sight in a very long time" he said sincerely and dragged himself into a seated position.

"I don't know how late it is, the snow storm is still going strong."

"I should find Tormund, get us some food too" he said getting up stiffly.

Jon put some more logs on the fire to keep his sister warm, kissed her briefly on the forehead and went out into the snow but could barely see, it was practically a white out. He found Tormund's tent and stepped inside tentatively, there was no point calling out in the wind. It must have been late because from the looks of things they'd already eaten.

"Miss me did you?" Tormund said not even looking up from the table.

"Terribly"

"How's your sister?"

"Tired, I don't know anything more yet."

"You?"

"The same. Is there anything to eat?"

"Not much in the storm no, I have a little meat left," Tormund found a plate and cut up the meat, he was right, there wasn't much. Jon went to retrieve Sansa and they sat at the table with Tormund, he shared the scraps of meat with his sister which they ate with their fingers, much to her discomfort.

"I've been thinking," Sansa said "if we're going to raise an army large enough to fight the dead then we have to re-take Winterfell and call the banners."

"What, no, we need to go South and get away from this place."

"Jon, what are you talking about?"

"Sansa it's not up to us, the Bolton's hold the North, it's their job to defend it."

"The Boltons! Do you think they will do anything!? They are traitors and only care about what they can get for themselves, they don't care about the North or its people. I should know, I was with them for over four moons" she shouted.

"With what army would we take back Winterfell Sansa!?" he shouted back.

"We are the sole surviving children of the true Warden of the North, if we contact the northern houses they will rally to us" she said with conviction.

"You don't know that," Jon shouted "you don't know who is loyal to us and who isn't, the Bolton's could have any of them in their pockets for any number of reasons so contacting them would only serve to warn the Bolton's, we'd suffer a crushing defeat and end up back in the same position we are now, except we'd be dead."

"There must be another way."

"There is, we leave."

"We CAN'T" she said fiercely "you're the only surviving son of Eddard Stark, it's your duty to your House."

"I'm a bastard, I don't have a House."

"I can't BELIEVE you just said that," she stood, furious, "when Edd told me all that you had done I thought you were a hero but you're not, you're a coward and not fit to ever wear the colours of House Stark" she stormed out the tent. Jon thought he was going to explode and stormed out after her into the blizzard, caught her up, grabbed her arm and shouted at her.

"How DARE you call me a coward, you have no idea about the things I've had to do, what it's done to me." She pulled her arm out of his grip forcefully and stared at him, even though they were no more than a foot apart and her face was obscured by the storm it was venomous, then she turned and tried to run through the thick snow to her tent. Jon just stood there, seething yet broken. He wanted to scream, punch something, hack something to pieces. Tormund would have an axe, he'd chop firewood. He stormed back into his tent.

"I need an axe" Tormund pointed to the corner, speechless. Jon strode over, yanked it out of a piece of wood and stormed out again.

He could barely see where he was going but thought he could make out some trees and headed in that direction. The wind was whipping up the snow and he had to hold his arm in front of his face to try to see, any sane person would have turned back but Jon was running solely on rage. He found the forest and started hacking at the nearest tree, couldn't even see how big it was or the marks the axe was making and frankly didn't care if it fell on him. The axe was slipping in his frozen hands and he was close to cutting himself to ribbons several times but just carried on hacking away with all the force he could muster. He'd surely torn the stiches in his wounds as his chest was burning but he didn't care. He heard a primal scream leave his own body that scared the life out of him and he dropped to his knees, panting so heavily he could barely catch breath. The heat in his body soon evaporated and left cold sweat and blood in its wake, there was pain in every part of his body but it was the desolation inside that hurt the most.

He managed to get up but was weak and knew he would die from exposure if he couldn't find his way to the camp but it was nowhere in sight. He wanted to see his sister even though she'd said some awful things to him that had cut him to the very bone, maybe she was right, maybe he was a coward, he didn't think he had another fight in him. He tried to focus on where he was going but couldn't even see his own footsteps. How ironic, brought back only to die in a snow storm after a fight with Sansa. He trudged on looking around desperately and thought he saw the outline of a tent. He tried hard to get there but the snow was deep and he was exhausted so just kept putting one foot in front of the other. Now he was certain he could see a tent, he forced himself onwards and hope took hold when he realised he was right, it was a tent, he walked in and found an old couple inside.

"Tormund" was all he could manage. The old man pointed to the right so he set out again and kept walking for what felt like forever. Then he heard something in the distance, Ghost howling, he followed it as best he could. It was getting louder and it was a little easier to see through the snow inside the camp, he was weaving in and out and suddenly he saw his wolf, guarding Sansa's tent, Jon walked straight in and just stood there. She was lying face down on the bed.

"Sansa" he said weakly.

She turned and looked up "Oh Gods Jon, what have you done?" Her eyes were red and her face blotchy, she'd been crying and he stood there like a fool. She got up and reached for his hand, then jumped.

"You're bleeding, come and lie down."

He did what she asked and nearly collapsed on the bed. Sansa inspected his hands then put her hand on his chest. He winced in agony.

"Melisandre, wounds" was all he said.

Sansa pulled some furs over him "stay there" she said, as if he was going to go anywhere!

He must have fallen straight to sleep as she was suddenly back and pulling the furs off him.

"Where's Melisandre?"

"I'll do it" she said and started to take his leather jerkin off but he couldn't do much to help her. He moved as best he could when she told him to and as she pulled his last vest up she took a sharp intake of breath. He didn't want her to see his wounds but was too exhausted to do anything about it. She got the vest over his head and he felt a warm, wet cloth on his chest, it was comforting. She washed his upper body and hands in silence, dried him and started to re-stich the stab wounds. It hurt like hell but she was delicate and fast and was bandaging his hands when she spoke softly.

"I didn't mean it. When I said you were a coward, and the rest of it, I didn't mean it and I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too, I shouldn't have shouted at you like that. Anyway, maybe you're right."

"I'm not. You're incredibly brave and just as much a Stark as I am. I'm proud to be your sister."

"I don't feel very brave, I don't know who I am anymore, I don't know what I am or if I have any fight left in me, all I've done is fight since I left home."

"I can see that from the wounds on your body," she said sadly.

Jon reached to hold Sansa's hand in his bandaged one. She took it and lay down next to him and pulled the covers over them burying her head in his neck. It felt so nice, so soothing to have her there with him.

"What did you do to yourself?" she asked.

"I tried to chop down a tree and failed."

"You're an idiot," she said kissing his cheek.

"I know" he resting his head on hers.

"Let's sleep, we've both been through so much."

Jon drifted off peacefully with his sister snuggled up next to him.

They must have been out for quite some time because when Jon next opened his eyes it was getting dark and even though the bed was warm the tent wasn't. He really didn't want to get up but his stomach was rumbling loudly and he needed to get the fire going again. He rose slowly feeling the pull of his new stitches.

"Seven hells" he called out. Sansa woke, startled. Brienne was sitting at the entrance to the tent watching them.

"Good, you're awake. Are you well my Lady?"

"Yes thank you Brienne" Sansa said sleepily.

"Everyone is meeting at Tormund's tent for food," she said "the storm broke not long ago and some of the animals died so we'll eat well tonight."

"We'll be there shortly" Jon said.

She left and Jon reluctantly got out from under the covers and went to re-build the fire so it would be warm when they got back. Sansa crawled back under the furs.

"Get up sleepy head" he said to her as he pulled his tops back on, they were still wet.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Better thanks to you."

After he got the fire going Sansa dragged herself out of bed and they walked the short distance to Tormund's and entered the tent, both a bit sheepish. The whole host were sitting at the table drinking and talking, Jon still couldn't look at Ser Davos and sat next to Sansa, opposite Melisandre who smiled at him knowingly. They were the last to arrive and an awkward silence fell until someone courageously decided to break it.

"I heard you two had quite the fight," Ser Davos said. Jon silently cursed his wildling friend for being a tattle tale.

"My money was on her" Tormund said provokingly. Jon didn't bite.

"Very wise" Sansa said sweetly. There were a few laughs and Jon felt her reach for his hand under the table.

Elinne and Anja appeared with a big pot holding some kind of meat stew and it smelt amazing. Jon was struggling not to spill it everywhere he was eating so fast. He saw Sansa out of the corner of his eye trying to eat daintily though she was clearly as hungry as he was. He chuckled under his breath, she nudged him playfully, their fight was definitely over but the things she'd said were playing on his mind. What would their father say to him if he were here? He would not be best pleased that was for certain. As they were finishing supper Jon heard some noise outside, a horse. Tormund went to investigate and soon returned accompanied by Edd.

"Good, you're back, a letter came for you" Edd said flustered.

"I'm not the Lord Commander anymore."

"I know that Jon but considering it has the flayed man Sigel on it I assumed it was for you" he replied moodily.

Sansa's head snapped to Jon, she looked afraid. Jon took the letter from Edd and started reading it out loud.

"Bastard, return my wife to me or I'll kill all your wildling friends and…" he stopped suddenly staring at the letter.

"What?" Sansa asked.

"He has Rickon." Jon was stunned, Sansa nearly tore the letter out of his hand and read in silence.

"He says he'll flay him if you don't return me and…Gods he's killed them" she said in shock.

"Who?" Jon said.

"Roose Bolton, his wife Walda and unborn child, or maybe she had it and it was a boy" Sansa drifted off.

Jon took the letter back and read the rest whilst his sister sat there in stunned silence along with everyone else. They were all looking at him.

"He's signed it Ramsay Bolton, Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North." Jon was outraged.

"What should we do?" Sansa asked him.

"We're going to take back the North"

"But, you said we don't have an army."

"We might," Jon said "I can't imagine Walder Frey will take kindly to the murder of his daughter and grandchild."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 **Sansa III**

"You can't be serious," Sansa was livid, "ally with a House that lured our brother and my mother to their castle under false pretences and murdered them under guest right."

"I didn't say ally Sansa, if House Frey moves against the Bolton's we may be able to use it to our advantage. We can't just attack; it's as much a rescue as an assault and we can't allow Rickon to be used as a bargaining tool. We need to explore every possible course of action, even the ones we'd prefer not to."

Sansa felt schooled and she didn't like it, especially in a room of people. She had a fiery temper, just like her mothers and this was the second time it had broken loose, first in front of Tormund and now the whole group. Her mask had slipped and she berated herself, Littlefinger had taught her better than that.

"Sansa did you hear anything about the size of the Bolton force while you were at Winterfell?"

"I heard Ramsay mention 5,000 once."

"Tell me about the battle Stannis fought with the Bolton's" Jon said looking at Ser Davos.

"There was a blizzard, we were snowed in for days and couldn't advance. The Bolton's knew we were there and sent a small force to set fire to the camp in the night, men were deserting rapidly so Stannis sent me back to Castle Black to ask for your help."

"That was Ramsay," Sansa added. "he returned full of self-congratulation."

"Stannis attacked with no more than 2,000 men and they were slaughtered like cattle," Brienne added. "I would estimate the Bolton force was more than double theirs so 5,000 sounds about right."

"You were there?" Ser Davos looked at Brienne.

"I was waiting in Winter Town hoping I could aid Lady Sansa."

"Do we know for certain that Lord Stannis died?" Jon asked.

"Yes," Brienne said, "I killed him."

Ser Davos was outraged "Why?"

Brienne rose slowly, her head held high "Because I was Kingsguard to Renly Baratheon and a shadow with the face of Stannis murdered him in front of Lady Catelyn Stark and myself. No-one believed me, but when I found Stannis he admitted it so I ran him through. The magic was your work I presume?" Brienne said turning to Lady Melisandre.

Jon held up his hand before she could form a word. "Is it true?" he asked.

"Yes, I serve the Lord of Light and it was his will" she replied quietly.

"Did you know about this Ser Davos?" he continued.

"Stannis asked me to take Lady Melisandre ashore, her belly was swollen and she, what I can only describe as 'gave birth' to a shadow creature. I had no idea what was going to happen or what the plan was."

"But when you found out you continued to follow Stannis anyway" Brienne said, indignant.

"Enough" Jon shouted and they all fell silent. "Lady Brienne did her duty to her King, Ser Davos and Lady Melisandre theirs, rightly or wrongly it's done, it's over and either we move on together or go our separate ways so make your peace or leave."

Sansa was astounded, this was the reason that Brienne had fled. No wonder she hadn't told her on their journey to Castle Black, Sansa probably wouldn't have believed her either.

Brienne spoke first. "I swore an oath to Lady Catelyn Stark to protect her daughters and I will keep it."

"It's in the past" Ser Davos said sternly.

Her brother looked at Lady Melisandre, who seemed to be studying him before finally speaking "agreed."

When they were children, Jon was quiet and she'd always thought that perhaps he wasn't very bright. She realised now that he was highly intelligent and very observant, he didn't miss anything. Now, when he spoke, he did so plainly and directly, asked questions and evaluated situations without emotion or prejudice clouding his thinking. His arguments were logical and once he made a decision, that was it. It came with experience she supposed. People followed Jon because he was a good leader, and a fair one. The broken man that Sansa had nursed earlier was gone, this was the man that Edd had described to her.

Tormund brought over 2 large flagons of ale, put them on the table and looked directly at Jon.

"I can give you around 2,000 fighters, that's everything we have."

"How many swords?" Jon asked as everyone began helping themselves to ale.

"A few hundred perhaps, you know our people Jon, steel is scarce north of the Wall so use bows and arrows. You also know how accurate we are" he added with a wink. She'd have to ask him about that.

"I can't give you any of the Night's Watch Jon, as much as I'd like to, our priority has to be the defence of the Wall" Edd admitted honestly.

"Will you send out scouts," he asked "it would be helpful to know how close the white walkers are, as well as offer any free folk passage through the Wall?"

"Ideally yes but you know how short we are."

"Some of my people will go," said Tormund "Free folk won't likely believe crows anyway."

"Good. Now we should consider the Vale" Jon said and Sansa's heart skipped a beat. "They don't usually get involved but Robin Arryn is my sister's cousin. Do you think he'll support us Sansa?"

She opened her mouth to speak but the words got stuck.

"Sansa?" Jon repeated.

"I spent time in the Vale, at the Eyrie but it's complicated" she said not wanting to have the discussion publically. She didn't want to have the discussion privately either but it would have to be had nonetheless, albeit the palatable version.

"It's getting late and it's been an eventful evening so Sansa and I can speak later and we'll all meet here to break fast in the morning?" He said turning to Tormund who nodded in assent.

"I have to get back to the Wall," Edd said to Jon "we have the vote tomorrow and there might be more messages waiting for me to ferry to you" he added sarcastically.

Her brother smiled and embraced his friend warmly "Do something for me, once the next Lord Commander is chosen, hold off on sending out the Ravens until we've spoken?"

"Your wish is my command" Edd deadpanned as he left and Tormund gave a hearty snort.

She watched her brother walk over to Tormund and embrace him. They said no words, none were needed, their actions spoke volumes.

Jon walked over to her and offered his arm and they walked outside. Sansa took in the cold night air and looked up at the sky, it was awash with stars that shone so brightly they looked like white fire. They walked into a tent that was wonderfully warm from the fire he'd built earlier and she stood just a few steps in from the entrance and watched as he added some more logs and sat. He looked up and held out his hand beckoning her, she felt hesitant as she walked over and sat down placing her hands in her lap.

"I know it's important that we speak about the Vale and what happened to me but some of it's difficult to talk about so can you ask any questions when I've finished."

"Of course."

"I think it will be easiest if I start at the beginning. As you know, I was in Kings Landing and when father was arrested the Kingsguard took me to the Red Keep. All our household were killed but they couldn't find Arya, she'd disappeared. I pleaded for father's life and King Joffrey said he would be merciful but he wasn't and took father's head in front of me at the Sept of Baelor." Sansa closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath before continuing. "I assumed they would take my head as well but the Lannister's wanted to use me as leverage against Rob, it didn't work and he kept winning battles making them look weak so instead of marrying me to King Joffrey, who was now betrothed to Margaery Tyrell, I was wed to Tyrion Lannister." Jon's eyes grew wide and he opened his mouth to speak. "He didn't touch me, not once, not at all," she said to reassure him "he was actually very kind."

"At the King's wedding feast Joffrey was poisoned and died. I fled with a Knight I knew who took me to a ship and when I boarded Lord Petyr Baelish, Master of Coin, was waiting for me. I didn't think about it at the time but he must've been involved in Joffrey's murder. He took me to the Eyrie and I posed as his bastard niece as Cersei Lannister believed I had conspired to kill her son, only Aunt Lysa and Robin knew my real identity. Lord Baelish and Aunt Lysa married, they'd been planning it for some time and she was clearly in love with him. It was agreed I would stay at the Eyrie but Aunt Lysa didn't like me, she attacked me and tried to throw me through the moon door, a hole in the middle of the castle with a drop of 500 feet, but Lord Baelish saved me and it was Aunt Lysa that ended up on the rocks below.

When the Lords of the Vale questioned Lord Baelish I revealed who I was and that Lord Baelish had saved my life, I didn't know what he had planned so I saved him to give myself some security. As Aunt Lysa was dead he became Lord Protector of the Vale and sent cousin Robin to Lord Royce to learn how to be a Lord. Robin is a very strange young man Jon, not stable of mind, much like his mother and is easy to manipulate and I fear, dangerous. Lord Baelish told me that he had arranged a marriage and we left the Vale, I assumed for him but it was for me, to Ramsay Bolton. I was at Winterfell for over four moons until I escaped and that's when Brienne found me and we made our way to Castle Black."

Sansa couldn't read the expression on Jon's face, his eyes were glazed over and his breathing a little ragged. Eventually, he composed himself.

"Why did you leave the Vale?"

"I didn't know anyone there and at the time I felt safer with Lord Baelish."

"Who took you under false pretences because if he'd told you the truth you never would have gone with him."

"Yes, that's how it turned out."

"Did he force you to marry Ramsay?

"Lord Baelish suggested it might be the best way to avenge our family, I would be in the North and that would provide possibilities but he said that it was up to me."

"Did you believe him?"

"I honestly don't know."

"Did he know about Ramsay, what he was like?"

"I don't know."

"What did Lord Baelish get from the arrangement?"

"I don't know."

"Why didn't your Aunt Lysa like you?"

"What?"

"She tried to kill you, why?"

Sansa's wanted to tell him it was because she was insane, not wanting to reveal the real reason. Did she feel ashamed, like it was somehow her fault or simply because she wasn't sure Jon could be trusted?

"Sansa?"

"Stop it," she snapped "stop interrogating me."

Jon was startled, he reached out to touch her shoulder and she couldn't help recoiling. Alarm flashed across his face.

"Sansa," he said softly, "I didn't mean to interrogate you, I'm just trying to understand what happened so I can help you and Rickon, if it is Rickon that Ramsay has.

"It is."

"You're certain?"

"When the Greyjoy's sacked Winterfell, Theon couldn't find Bran and Rickon so he burned two farm boys so everyone would believe he'd killed them."

"What! How do you know this?"

"Theon told me, he was at Winterfell, a prisoner like I was, it was Theon that helped me escape, we jumped from the west wall."

"Theon!"

"Jon, I know he betrayed Rob and did some awful things but he also saved me, Bran and Rickon too."

"Where is he now?"

"I hope at home on Pyke, he was going to bring me to you but Lady Brienne found me and he was so broken and just wanted to go home. I know it's hard for you to hear, I hated him too when I first saw him at Winterfell but Rickon wouldn't be here at all if he hadn't lied to his own men."

"Is he loyal to you? Do you trust him?"

"I believe he's loyal to me yes. As for trusting him I don't trust anyone anymore so it's not a useful measure."

Jon took a deep breath "let's focus on Rickon for a moment. I think either he was recently captured and given to Ramsay or, someone was already hiding him and gave him up."

Sansa saw exactly where Jon was going "you think one of the Northern Houses betrayed us don't you?"

"I do. I also think Bran and Rickon would have separated after their escape, it's the smart thing to do so Bran could be alive too and in great danger. Do you think it's possible that Arya could be alive?"

"Brienne saw her, about 5 moons after father's death with a man in the Riverlands. She said it didn't seem like he meant her any harm but she didn't want to leave him, Brienne didn't see her again." Jon nodded sadly. "Jon, you said we have to consider all possible courses of action so we should talk about trading me for Rickon because without a male heir, the Stark line ends."

"Sansa, Ramsay is a monster, you said so yourself and if I trade you for Rickon I risk losing you both, besides, you're not a piece of meat."

"All high-born women are pieces of meat Jon, we're traded in marriage to men we don't love of even like, at least this time it's for good reason."

He took hold of her hands "you're not for sale, to anyone." Sansa felt tears prick her eyes. "I vow to you as long as I live you will never marry a man you do not love and I will never let a man touch you that you don't want to be touched by, do you understand?" She was so moved she didn't know what to do so just nodded. "I can see how painful it is for you to talk about and I'm not stupid Sansa, I know you're leaving a lot out but I hope you know you can tell me anything, no matter how bad you think it is, that you can trust me, you're my sister and it's my job to protect you now."

Sansa was trying hard not to cry and once she'd calmed herself she removed her hands from his and spoke.

"Please understand that since the day father was arrested I haven't for one moment felt safe, I've been completely and utterly alone and on the few occasions that I did trust someone I was let down and it made me feel exposed, unsafe and stupid so I just don't know if I'm capable of trusting anyone anymore, even you."

She winced as she said it and knew it would hurt him, she seemed to be good at that. She already hated herself for what she'd said to him in Tormund's tent, how vicious she'd been using the very words she knew would hurt him the most and it tore him to shreds.

"I understand." He was wounded, she could see it and needed to take a leap of faith for him as well as herself.

"What I'm about to tell you can't be repeated. Not to Tormund or Edd or Ser Davos not anyone." Jon nodded.

"At the Eyrie Petyr told me how much he loved my mother, that I was more beautiful than her then he kissed me and Aunt Lysa saw. That's why she tried to kill me. Before Petyr saved me she said that her father, first husband and my mother were all dead and that's what happened to people that stood between her and Petyr. Obviously she didn't kill my mother but I'm no longer certain that Jon Arryn died of a fever."

Jon walked over to the bed and sat down. He didn't move or speak for the longest time. Ghost wandered over and sat as still as stone next to his master. Sansa waited for him to speak.

"It's clear Lord Baelish can't be trusted. He wants you Sansa and only the Gods know what else and he'll do anything to get it. If the young Lord of the Vale is of unsound mind, its likely he'll only remain alive whilst he's useful. If we approach the Vale for support we'll be betrayed and we need to be the ones pulling the strings and even if we are Sansa, we might still lose Rickon."

"If we lose Rickon we'll have no male heir" she said despondently.

"Is that the most important thing right now?"

"No, but it forces me to take a course of action that I don't want to take."

"What do you mean?"

She couldn't say it so put her hand on her belly and looked at the floor because she couldn't look at Jon, the shame was too much and she couldn't bear to see the look on his face.

"If we live Ramsay has to die, he can't escape and if it's a boy…" she spoke to the floor, half saying it to herself. The silence that followed seemed to last an eternity but she still couldn't look up.

"You don't have to go through with it Sansa, I'll do everything I can to save Rickon."

"We might also be able to have you legitimised but we have to give ourselves the best chance of success, no matter what."

"How far along are you?

"I haven't bled for over 2 moons, but I don't really know" she said embarrassed.

"There'll be women here that can help" he said and took a step towards her.

"Don't," she held up her hand to halt him "I can't. Could you sleep somewhere else tonight and have Brienne come to stand guard, I want to be alone." She didn't mean to sound cold but couldn't help it, there was ice in her heart and Ramsay had put it there. "Don't tell anyone" she reminded him.

"Of course not," he said softly "if you need anything, have Brienne send for me."

Sansa nodded and felt a brief rush of cold air as he left with Ghost in tow, she was still looking at the floor. She had somehow managed to convince herself that she wasn't with child, even when she was being sick, but telling Jon had made it real. She got into bed and waited for the sobbing to start but it didn't come, she just felt numb and vulnerable and was tired of feeling that way, she'd told her brother too much. When Brienne entered the tent she was already falling asleep.

"My lady?"

Sansa sat up and put her mask back on "would you watch over me tonight?"

"Of course. Will your brother not be returning?"

"No we've talked so much I think we've worn each other out" she said with a sweet smile that dropped the moment she lay back down. "Good night Brienne."

 _Next, Jon and Ser Davos head into dangerous territory._


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

 **Jon III**

As Jon rode out from the camp his spirits soared higher than a gold crested eagle. Having been locked in shackles for so long without hope of reprieve the smile that spread across his face reflected both joy and relief, he felt free. The volatile emotions that had plagued him throughout the week, the anger, the confusion over his murder and subsequent resurrection had dissolved and he was grateful for a second chance at life. Uncle Benjen had been right, he hadn't known what he was giving up joining the Night's Watch, family was the priority now, like it always should've been.

It was early afternoon when the party had started out. Jon's horse whinnied and pulled at the reigns wanting to break into a trot, he would've preferred a full gallop but it was far too treacherous in the snow and ice. Jon's joy was momentarily spoiled when Ser Davos said they should stay in Mole's Town that night, the scene of the crime, they wouldn't be staying at the same Inn he hoped! Jon decided facing his sordid behaviour was long overdue and pulled alongside Ser Davos.

"I've wanted to speak to you for a while to say that I'm sorry you had to find me the way you did in Mole's Town, I've never done anything like that before, it's not who I am."

"There's no need to apologise son" he said.

"Nevertheless, I understand if you no longer think very highly of me."

"You're too hard on yourself do you know that? You think you failed as a Lord Commander and now as a man. We all make mistakes; it's how we learn."

Maybe Ser Davos was right and he held himself to too high a standard. He'd always measured himself against his father but had to accept the man that he held in such high esteem wasn't perfect either, after all, he'd lain with a woman that wasn't his wife and Jon had been the result. If Lord Eddard had ever behaved dishonourably in any other way Jon hadn't known about it so it had always been a struggle to reconcile the man he knew with that kind of behaviour. Maybe his father had learnt from that mistake and it helped him become the man he was meant to be. When they reached the top of the ridge, the last place where the Wall could be seen in all its glory Jon didn't look back, _only forwards now_ he thought.

Conversation wasn't forthcoming for the rest of the afternoon; the three were lost in their own thoughts all the way to Mole's Town. Ser Davos found them somewhere to stay, the food was terrible as was the ale but Jon didn't care, he wanted to be ready for a hard ride the next day so went to bed early. On blowing out the bedside candle his thoughts turned to Sansa.

Although she was in safe hands, leaving had been difficult. Her recounting of the last 4 years of her life had been excruciating for both of them but when she revealed she was with child, it felt like another knife had been thrust in his heart. It was obvious she'd been repeatedly raped and every time she flinched, or stared off into the distance he wondered what she was remembering, he both wanted to know and didn't but whatever it was, he would never allow it to happen again. Sansa didn't want the Stark name to die, that was understandable, but surely this was too great a sacrifice.

Fantasies about all the things he would do to Ramsay Bolton flooded his mind, the list was getting long and it gave him a perverse sense of pleasure which would've been deeply alarming under any other circumstances. Then there was Lord Baelish, a liar and master manipulator. Jon was worried that Sansa hadn't quite grasped the entirety of what he'd done to her yet, maybe it was better that way, she'd been through enough. When he next found a Weirwood tree he would pray for her.

They left early in the morning and Jon realised it was the first time he'd been south of Mole's Town since journeying to the Wall over 4 years ago. As they got closer to Queenscrown he began to appreciate the subtle changes in terrain. The ground under the snow was rocky and there were fewer trees so despite the veil of dark cloud that tried to shroud them, they could see the Northern Mountains in the distance.

"We'll stop at Queenscrown and give the horses a rest" Ser Davos stated.

"No," Jon said a little more forcefully than he meant to "we can rotate the horses, that's why we brought six, so we could keep going." Ser Davos looked a little concerned so Jon continued. "This is the North and I know these lands well, we'll be fine."

Ser Davos nodded and Jon swallowed down the guilt, he knew the lands a little but in truth, didn't want to go back to Queenscrown and be reminded of Ygritte. It was there that he'd been asked to prove his loyalty to the free folk by killing a man but in the end, she'd had to do it. _Forwards not backwards_ he told himself again, it was becoming a mantra. The new Jon certainly looked different, gone was the black of the Night's Watch and the brown leather Stark armour that was so precious to him. He wore 3 vests, one grey and two blue under a pale brown padded tunic with dark brown breeches and a coat made of furs that Tormund had given him. Even his hair was tied back now, in the same style as his father's. The only thing left from his old life was Longclaw, he'd considered not taking it, valerian steel with a wolf's head hilt was distinguishable to say the least but it gave him the best chance in a fight so it came.

Erik Ryman was travelling with his uncle, Derren and his second wife, Melany to a village near Riverrun so they could escape the winter in Torren's Square (Jon had schooled them on House Tallhart for most of the ride that day). Melisandre hadn't wanted a false identity let alone different clothes but it was a condition of her joining them. She looked terrible in grey. The route they had decided upon would skirt the Northern Mountains then go through the Wolfswood bypassing Winterfell and hopefully, Bolton men. South of Winterfell they would join the Kings Road south of House Cerwyn and travel into the upper Riverlands. It had all been agreed at the camp breakfast meet the previous day.

Jon had explained that approaching the Vale wasn't wise due to recent instability and a young Lord under questionable influence. That was as politely as he'd been able to put it. The group had talked at length about the need to gather information through scouring parties before creating a battle strategy. Jon couldn't go anywhere near Winterfell for obvious reasons and none of the free folk had been that far south and returned so they would borrow a few north men from the Night's Watch and replace them. Tormund had agreed to send Edd 30 men to help at Castle Black and scout north of the Wall, both informing free folk of the camp and gathering information on the whereabouts of the dead.

As Ramsay led the daring night raid on the Baratheon camp, Jon had highlighted the potential for more sneak attacks, not just from Ramsay but also House Umber so sentries were to be posted around the camp. Jon had stated he would be going south and Ser Davos immediately insisted on going with him after commenting that Jon had never left the North. It was a good point, besides, Ser Davos knew the Riverlands and Jon had grown accustomed to his company and council. Lady Melisandre had wanted to join them too; Jon wasn't sure whether she was an asset or liability but taking her was a good way to find out.

Sansa had raised the issue of organisation at the camp and had quizzed Tormund on everything from food supply to camp defences. Jon remembered struggling not to laugh and having to get up and walk around in case Tormund saw. He was quite proud of his sister actually, she seemed to have a naturally strategic mind. Tormund had conceded that now the free folk had allied with House Stark there was a lot to do and a plan was needed, to her credit, Sansa insisted he put her, Brienne and Podrick to use. When Jon thought about it, she'd been learning how to manage castle resources since she was a young girl so it would likely prove useful to his friend. It would also keep her mind off her condition, and his mind off worrying about her so much.

As darkness sought to snuff out the remaining daylight they looked desperately for somewhere sheltered to camp and urged the horses on until thankfully, they came across a small wooded area. It was too late to make a fire, if the mountain clans spotted them they'd be in serious trouble. Jon could tell Ser Davos was a bit huffy about it, he knew he hated the cold but they'd get warm and eat in the morning when the light returned. He was wrapping up in his fur coat and settling against a tree for shelter when someone sat down next to him.

"I told you I would see you again Jon Snow" Melisandre hadn't said much on their journey so far.

"Aye, you did."

"I also said I saw you in a battle at Winterfell and now you are planning a battle at Winterfell" if she was trying to hide how pleased she was with herself she was doing badly.

"Maybe you'll be right again" he said trying to end the conversation without being rude, she made him uncomfortable, then again, most women did.

"I will be" she said and the corners of her lips turned up almost imperceptibly. They entered an uncomfortable silence, well, he felt awkward, she seemed to be enjoying it.

"It is a cold night, perhaps I will sleep next to you to keep warm" she said.

"I thought the Lord of Light kept you warm" he was quite pleased with that response.

"I meant I could keep you warm."

 _Damn_ he thought as his brain scrambled to try and get him out of it.

"He's of the North, he doesn't need you to keep him warm" Ser Davos chimed in.

"I'm sure he can speak for himself Ser Davos."

"I've been thinking about a lot of things," Jon said changing the subject "and I realise now I'm grateful you bought me back, it felt unnatural at first, wrong, but not anymore, not really."

"You're doing well," she said sincerely "having your sister with you has helped."

"I thought all my family were gone."

"But they're not, and life is full of possibilities" she said smiling as she stood and walked away.

Daylight brought a light dusting of snow and after the supplies were reloaded they set off on fresh horses at quite a pace. As the day drew on and they got nearer Long Lake the route narrowed significantly which meant either getting closer to the Kings Road, or traversing the mountain foothills and risking an attack from the clans. They took the lesser of two evils but the hope of an easy journey proved unrealistic when a party of more than 20 horses appeared on the horizon.

To avoid discovery, they took their horses into a denser wooded area and began to feed them to keep them calm. Jon's curiosity got the better of him and he told Ser Davos he was going to take a look. He crept through the woodland and found a large tree to use for cover, carefully poking his head out from behind the trunk. Part of him wanted it to be Ramsay but he couldn't see any Sigel's or identifying signs, he was about to leave when he noticed a very large man, as big as Tormund, in the middle of the group. Was that the Greatjon? The Last Hearth wasn't far away so it could well be him and if it was, they were riding north so where had they been? If they were hunting they wouldn't be on the Kings Road and it was unlikely he'd leave the castle unless it was important and that was a fairly large escort. Had he been at Winterfell? He couldn't learn anything more so carefully tracked back and found Ser Davos waiting for him, his face etched with concern.

"Who was it?" he asked.

"I couldn't see any Sigel's but one of the men looked like Greatjon Umber though I can't be certain, the last time I saw him I was about 14 or 15." Ser Davos nodded.

If it was the Greatjon he'd probably recognise him so they continued slowly and cautiously until they were confident the party had long passed. Towards the end of Long Lake they headed away from the Kings Road towards the Wolfswood where they would rest for the night. It would take two to three days before they could join the Kings Road south of House Cerywn. After a much needed warming fire and some food they settled in for the night and Jon closed his eyes and prayed for Sansa, that she was safe, that she was well and that she'd smiled today.

When the time had come to say their farewells Jon had found her sitting quietly on the bed in their tent. She'd got up when he walked in but didn't move otherwise, they'd both been a bit awkward. She'd spoken first.

" _I can't lose you."_

" _Nor I you."_

" _Would you believe I was just about to tell you to be careful, what a silly thing to say, as if you wouldn't be."_

" _It's not silly, it's nice."_

 _He'd then taken a step towards her and she'd immediately responded in kind so within moments he'd wrapped his arms around her. She'd buried her head in his shoulder, it was becoming her thing, he'd put his head on hers and stroked her hair then realised this was becoming 'their' thing._

" _I'll think of you every day so you won't really be without me, in fact, you'll probably be sick of me by the time I return."_

" _Oh definitely" she said trying to smile._

" _Would you do something for me whilst I'm away?"_

 _"If I can."_

" _Can you see if you can get some white and grey material from Edd? I don't want to take Winterfell, cut down the Bolton banners and have nothing to replace them with."_

 _Her face had actually lit up, it made him smile thinking that it must've been the combination of Stark banners and the large amount of sewing required. She'd then kissed him on the cheek and shooed him away saying she had lots to do and would see him soon. He'd missed her from the moment he'd walked out the tent._

The next two days were largely uneventful and the mood had been quite low but that was more from lack of food and sleep than anything else. Now that they'd finally reached the Kings Road they were all looking forward to a bed in a warm Inn and a half decent meal that night. They had stopped by a stream to water the horses and Jon was adjusting one of the packs that had slipped when they heard hooves on the packed snow, Jon's hand automatically went to the hilt of his sword.

Ser Davos saw and ran over to him "Don't," he said sternly grabbing his hand and moving it away "we don't know who it is, let me do the talking and please, please try to appear relaxed."

Jon looked over his shoulder and saw 5 horses coming in to view carrying men wearing the flayed man Sigel, his breath hitched. _Relax, they don't know who you are_ he said to himself and tried to act natural, he was terrible at it and carried on fiddling with the pack on his horse. The riders pulled up.

"Morning lads" Ser Davos said to the lead rider with a nod. The soldier got down from his horse.

"Who are you and what business do you have in these lands?"

"My name's Derren Ryman, we're from near Torren's Square and to be honest with you, we're travelling to the Riverlands to get away from the freezing bloody cold."

"Why all the horses?" he said as a second soldier dismounted and walked towards Jon.

"The weather's so bad we were worried some wouldn't make it, we already lost one." Ser Davos looked at Jon, his eyes imploring him to act friendly. Jon wasn't very good at that either. "We also planned to trade them when we arrive, even though I have family there it's best to be prepared."

"This is a fine one" the second soldier said to Jon giving his horses' mane a stroke.

"He is" Jon said doing his best to smile.

"What's in the packs?"

"Supplies, mostly food, water and a few things to trade."

The first soldier walked to Ser Davos's horse and started inspecting him.

"This is my wife, and my nephew Erik" Ser Davos said.

"We'll take them off you."

"I assume you don't mean my wife and nephew" Ser Davos said laughing, making a joke of it. The soldier laughed as did the three still on their mounts. "That's kind of you and I'm sure you'd give me a good price but I only want to sell two."

"No old man, I mean we're taking the horses and your supplies" he said dropping the smile and drawing his sword.

Ser Davos barely got his out the scabbard in time to deflect the first blow. Jon was much quicker, slapping his horse on the rear and driving Longclaw through the soldier's body the moment a space appeared between them. He sprinted over to Ser Davos yelling out to get the attention of the man attacking him as the remaining three soldiers dismounted and closed in.

"RUN" Jon yelled at Melisandre and she sprinted up the road with one running after her as he crossed swords with another.

Ser Davos was now trying to fight off two men."Argghhh" he screamed out, he'd been slashed in the left arm.

Jon stepped up his attack, his soldier was tall but slow and Jon moved swiftly to the side as his opponent swung wildly, missing him completely and as his body twisted from the motion, Jon buried his sword in his ribs. More horses were coming but Jon didn't have time to look up as Ser Davos fell to the ground so he ran and launched himself at one of his attackers before he could deliver the kill blow, plunging his blade into the soldiers back. The dying man fell on top of Ser Davos but Jon had the last man on him already so couldn't help. They were of similar height and both fast but as more soldiers arrived his opponent made the mistake of looking up.

"Get him" he screamed and with his eyes averted for just the briefest of moments Jon was able to take advantage and knock the sword right from the other man's hand, the soldier was standing on a slight slope so Jon kicked him in the chest knocking him down and as he put up his hand in defence, Jon's blade sliced through his gut. Jon was aware the other men were dismounting and spun round to see 8 or 9 soldiers in front of him.

"What the hell is that?" One of them said pointing at Jon who at first didn't know what he was talking about. _Shit, Longclaw_ he realised.

Jon knew he was outnumbered and if he fought he'd die so sheathed his sword, held up his hands in surrender and walked backwards slowly to where Ser Davos was lying on the ground.

"He needs help" Jon shouted as the Bolton soldier returned with Melisandre at knife point. Jon kneeled and pulled the dead body off the old Knight.

"Uncle" he said as Ser Davos coughed and spluttered.

"Sorry son" he said just as three blades made their presence felt on the back of Jon's tunic.

"Stand up slowly, arms out to the side." Jon did as he was ordered, looked up to the sky and closed his eyes. _I'm sorry Sansa_.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

 **Davos II**

Davos lay on his back bleeding badly. The deep slice in his right bicep burned like a hundred wasp stings and his attempt to move it brought on a wave of nausea. He looked at his arm attempting to establish just how dire the situation was and his heart sank when he saw the large pool of dark brown blood in the snow.

The sound of approaching footsteps suddenly registered and he turned his head to see two soldiers striding towards him, he didn't recognise the Sigel. He closed his eyes waiting for the inevitable but instead found he was being pulled upright. Infuriatingly, one of the soldiers roughly grabbed his wounded arm and Davos swore though gritted teeth from the searing pain. A cold sweat clung to his brow and he tried desperately not to give in to the unconsciousness that beckoned then everything went black.

He came to gradually, aware that something didn't feel right. His face was warm on one side and a ripple of panic surged through him when he realised his hands were tied behind his back. His eyes shot open to a face full of horse, the side of a horse to be precise as he'd been slung over the saddle. They were at a slow canter and he strained his neck hoping to catch a glimpse of Jon or Melisandre but his view was limited. He must have fallen unconscious again because the next he knew he was lying in the dark on cold stone floor that smelt of piss and shit with his feet bound. An old man's groan escaped from his body involuntarily as he attempted to move.

"Ser Davos?"

"Jon?" he croaked.

"Aye it's me, stay still."

Jon shuffled over and tried to help him sit up but he was bound too, it would have been funny if their circumstances weren't so perilous. After a few aborted attempts they succeeded and Jon positioned himself so Davos could lean on him for support.

"Where are we?"

"In the cells at Castle Cerwyn. I told them the Bolton men attacked us first then they asked me about Longclaw, I said I would only speak with Lord Medger. If he declines they'll probably execute us, if he accepts, well, we'll see where his loyalties lie. How's your arm?"

"Not the best."

"You've lost a lot of blood" Melisandre said from somewhere in the darkness.

"Are either of you hurt?" Davos asked.

"Not yet" she said ominously.

Davos was thirsty and tried to lick his lips but didn't seem to have any saliva. "How long have we been here?"

"Half a day perhaps, you groaned a few times so we knew you were alive but…"

The dungeon door creaked open interrupting them and the occupants of the boots that clattered on the stone floor sounded like they were heading in their direction.

"Stand up" a voice said.

Davos heard keys jangling and someone holding a candle appeared so he used the dim light to look around. The cell walls and floor were solid stone and there were thick wrought iron bars on one side that opened onto a corridor. There was another cell directly opposite theirs but he couldn't see if there were any inhabitants. The guard trying to open their door was getting frustrated.

"I said STAND UP" he shouted at Davos "and hold the bloody candle still man."

"My uncle is injured" Jon said as he finally found the right key and opened the door.

"Shut your mouth" the guard said and punched Jon square in the jaw, knocking him off his feet.

Davos was still on his knees; he'd have to make an attempt at standing soon but couldn't muster any strength. A second guard entered and drew a knife, fear gripped Davos but instead of feeling cold steel the rope around his ankles was cut. He managed to get up by himself but they had to haul Jon up off the floor. They shuffled along the corridor to the dungeon door which opened onto some narrow stone steps. The guard with the candle led but Davos found himself fifth in line so not only was it too dark to see, he had to use the wall as support to get up the steps, he was weak, too weak to fight.

When they reached the top the guard unlocked a second door and a cold blast of wind whipped past him, firing his senses. He found himself outside in a high walled area and they were led diagonally towards some large, thick, wooden gates, he assumed the entrance to the inner ward as they were already inside the castle. On the other side was a large courtyard filled with people going about their business, a blacksmith, a stable hand, normal castle life. They were handed over to an escort of ten soldiers who marched them across the courtyard to a large wooden door. There were no nooses so it appeared they weren't going to be executed just yet. The door opened and a young man walked towards them, Davos looked at Jon who had his head slightly cocked to one side and was that a slight quizzical expression? It was hard to tell with Jon.

"Which of them had the sword?" he heard him ask.

"That one my Lord." The young man strode over.

"Lord Cley?" Jon asked quietly.

He appeared taken aback but then his expression changed and he walked closer to Jon, they were practically nose to nose when he stopped. There was a lot of tension in the air, Davos held his breath.

"Give them water to drink, have them wash and bring them to my solar, keep them under guard at all times" he ordered and left.

Even if it was only a short stay of execution it was a welcome one. Davos exhaled a little too loudly which drew a stare from a soldier so he dipped his head and kept his eyes down. Their party was separated when they entered the Keep, much to Davos' annoyance and he was taken to a small room where the binds around his wrists were finally cut. He was handed a cup of water, he couldn't drink it quickly enough and then a bucket arrived along with a clean vest and breeches.

"Hurry up and wash" his guard said.

"Can I have another drink?" Davos asked.

"No. Hurry up."

He managed to undress despite the pain and washed his wound first, the cut was almost to the bone and it turned his stomach, he'd always been a bit squeamish but hid it well. It was still bleeding albeit very slowly as the blood had caked around the wound, he tried not to disturb it.

"Can you cut my old vest for me, we need a bandage or I'll bleed everywhere."

The guard was about to protest but hesitated then relented seeing the logic of it. Once dressed Davos was escorted to Lord Cley's solar by two soldiers. Melisandre was already there and Jon joined them soon after but they had no chance to talk as one of the soldiers remained in the room, his sword drawn. Jon gave Davos a look, this one he could read. After what seemed like an eternity the door opened and Lord Cley walked in, he didn't invite them to sit.

"Your name?" he asked Jon brusquely.

"I'm Jon Snow, son of Eddard…"

"Stark" Lord Cley finished for him. "What are you doing here Lord Commander? Why aren't you at the Wall?"

"I was released from my vows to the Night's Watch and I'm travelling south."

"Released from your vows?" He looked at Jon suspiciously. "Who are your companions?"

"Ser Davos Seaworth, former Hand to Stannis Baratheon and Lady Melisandre of Asshai. Where is your Lord father?"

Lord Cley paused. "Ramsay Bolton flayed him alive along with my mother and uncle when we refused to pay taxes. It's just me and my sister now."

Davos was horrified. "I'm so sorry my Lord," Jon said respectfully "I'm in a similar position with my sister, Lady Sansa. She was Ramsay's prisoner but thankfully escaped and found me. She was not treated well."

Lord Cley stood, walked towards the door and disappeared, returning a few moments later with a wooden tray that he placed on the desk.

"Please" he said inviting them to eat, it was salt and bread, guest right. Davos thanked the Gods, which he seemed to be doing a lot of recently despite being a non-believer.

"Thank you Lord Cley" Jon said with a courteous nod. They were each given a goblet of wine and invited to sit.

"It's not very good I'm afraid" he said to Jon with a small smile.

"We're most grateful for your hospitality and its certain to be better than anything I've had recently" Jon said.

"I almost didn't recognise you Jon, it's been a long time."

"My brother's 15th name day I believe."

"Gods it was wasn't it, we all went hunting in the Wolfswood and came home with enough meat to feed the whole of Winterfell. Those were good days."

"Aye, they were." Jon said with a hint of melancholy.

"Lady Sansa is safe?"

"She is now."

"You said you were going south?"

"Aye, we're trying to understand who might support my sister and I and what options we have."

"I assume your intention is to take Winterfell and restore House Stark to power?"

"It is."

"Forgive me Jon but you're a Snow and Lady Sansa is a Bolton by marriage, neither of you are Starks."

"Tis true my Lord but our brother Rickon is and Ramsay is holding him hostage at Winterfell. He sent a letter to me at Castle Black with some colourful descriptions of what would happen if we didn't obey his demands, which included returning my sister to him."

"Are you sure it's Lord Rickon?"

"Lady Sansa believes so. It would seem that he's either been in hiding and was discovered, or, was given up."

"So the rumours are true" Lord Cley said quietly to himself.

"Rumours my Lord?"

"That Rickon Stark was being hidden in the North. I don't know by whom, just that it wasn't House Reed. They've been a great support since the murder of my family. Our taxes were raised significantly and we refused to pay both out of principal and loyalty but suffered the consequences. We've received aid from the Reed's ever since. House Cerwyn has always been loyal to House Stark and will remain so but there isn't much we can offer and with our proximity to Winterfell, we're in a precarious position. How many soldiers do you have?"

"At the moment around 2,000, 1,800 arrows, 200 swords."

"From what Houses?" Jon hesitated.

Davos was good at reading situations and usually knew what to say, his smuggling days had taught him well.

"My Lord, during my stay at Castle Black with Stannis Baratheon I learnt a great deal about the threat beyond the Wall. All the wildling tribes had joined forces, they numbered 100,000 and were attacking the Night's Watch because they were desperate to get south. Jon's predecessor, Lord Commander Mormont, wanted to know why and there's no easy way to say this my Lord but the old stories of the long night and the white walkers are not stories, every person that dies north of the Wall rises again. When Jon became Lord Commander he knew he had to get everyone south but whilst evacuating the wildlings they were attacked by the army of the dead, many were lost but Jon still managed to save 5,000 people and there are many still out there fighting for their lives. Stannis Baratheon understood, as I did and where his attack on Winterfell failed ours must succeed, House Stark can unite the North, the Bolton's can't. The 2,000 fighters we have are wildlings my Lord. They fight for Jon and when the times comes, they've pledged to fight the dead alongside us all. I'm a southerner my Lord, Stannis is dead so I should be on my way home to my wife and children but instead I'm here with Jon because he's fought and killed them and he's a man who's not afraid to do what needs to be done to protect the North."

Lord Cley was ashen, Davos was drained, blood seeping through his vest. The speech had taken everything he had and he hoped it would be enough.

"That's how I came to be in possession of Longclaw" Jon added. "Lord Commander Mormont insisted on giving it to me when I saved him from a whyte, one of our own men that had been killed by the dead and rose again. It's his family's ancestral sword and I've used it to kill many a whyte since, as well as a white walker."

Lord Cley sat there thinking, rubbing his fingers on his chin as he stared at the floor, they waited for him to speak.

"You'll stay here tonight, under false names. I trust my sister, Lieutenant Wych here and a select few others but there are Bolton spies everywhere so we must be careful. We'll say you were a friend of my father's Ser Davos."

"We already have false names and a story my Lord" Davos said.

"Good. It'll be dark soon, we'll meet again for supper in the small dining room as we have much to discuss, my sister will join us. I'll send a rider to House Reed to let them know you're here and a raven to Lord Bolton saying that his men were killed by outlaws whom we've hung. The Maester will see to your wound Ser Davos."

"My Lord, there's one remaining Bolton soldier" Lieutenant Wych reminded him.

"Sadly there isn't" he replied, his meaning clear. "I'll have someone organise rooms for you."

"We'll need only two as Ser Davos and Lady Melisandre are travelling as man and wife, I'm his nephew."

"Very well, we'll get you better clothing and you'll have time to bathe properly before supper."

Davos' stomach dropped at the thought of sharing a room with Melisandre. Their strange relationship was about to get stranger.

Lord Cley stood, signalling the meeting was over and asked them to wait with his Lieutenant. Davos felt the need to put his hand on Jon's shoulder, he'd done well, he must've been nervous, Davos certainly had been. He realised that somewhere along the way Jon had become his surrogate son. Perhaps it was because he'd spent so long away from his own, he'd had seven sons but had lost four, his oldest at Blackwater and he hadn't seen them or his wife for nearly five years. He suddenly felt old, lonely and so very, very, tired. He both missed his family but didn't know how he could go back to the simple life after all that he'd seen and all that he knew. They probably thought he was dead.

There was a knock at the solar door and the Maester entered spotting the bloodied vest immediately. "Lord Cley asked me to treat your wounds, please come with me."

Davos nodded and followed him out of the solar into main hall where a huge roaring fire dominated the sparse room. Davos hadn't been in many castles and if he was honest he didn't like them very much, they always seemed cold and a northern one in winter even more so. He would always be a southerner at heart but had been gaining a whole new respect for the north, it was wild, living was hard and ruling it even more so. He could understand why the northerners didn't like being under the yolk of the south, how could they really understand what it was like here.

The Maester sat Davos down in his chambers and went to work silently, Davos distracted himself from the pain by fantasising about a hot bath, a hot meal and a soft, warm bed. He knew he should be grateful that they were still alive and guests of a House loyal to the Starks but his spirits were low.

"That should do it, it should heal well but you must rest it. Wait here and I'll see if your room is ready."

"Thank you kindly good sir."

The Maester soon returned and bid Davos follow him. The bed chamber was basic but had a large wooden bed that definitely looked soft and there was a small plate of cheese and bread and a jug of ale on a small table.

"There's hot water in the bath already and if you need anything, there'll be a guard just outside the door."

It was a dream come true and Davos couldn't decide what he wanted to do first, eat or bathe. He felt a small burst of glee when he realised he could do both so he stripped off, cut himself a piece of cheese, placed it on a slice of bread and stepped into the bath. The water was so hot he had to do it slowly so that his body adjusted, he could've added some cold water from the pale on the floor but couldn't be bothered. The heat soothed his old bones and the bread and cheese were delicious, he chuckled as he reflected on how it's often the simple things in life that cheer you up. He stuffed the last and very large mouthful of bread and cheese into his mouth and started washing himself when the chamber door opened.

"Ser Davos?"

Gods it was Melisandre, he'd forgot and tried to call out with a mouthful of bread and nearly choked himself getting out a strange coughing mumble that sounded like someone was being strangled.

"Are you alright Ser Davos?"

He was trying to chew quickly so he could answer but it was too late, she'd opened the washroom door.

"Eating" he managed to say half spitting remnants of bread into the bath water then he finally swallowed the last mouthful. "Also washing, could you close the door please?"

"Do you want me to bring you your clothes?"

He'd forgot he was sharing a room with her and to take his clothes with him. He could've kicked himself.

"I'd be grateful" he tried to disguise his embarrassment with politeness.

She nodded, retrieved his clothes and placed them on the floor just inside the washroom door. While he finished bathing he talked himself through their predicament. She'd have the bed so no soft sheets for him _dreams don't come true after all_ he supposed, he would ask for some additional blankets and fashion a bed on the floor. They were all tired, him especially so he would simply say goodnight and go to sleep and that would be that, easy.

When he walked back into the room he found her laying on the bed with her eyes shut, he quietly asked the guard for hot water for 'his wife' and more blankets. He suddenly felt bad about bathing first. As he walked back towards the bed she opened her eyes.

"I've asked for some more hot water so you can bathe, oh, not that you smell or anything, I just thought you'd want to, sorry for going first." _You're an idiot you know_ he berated himself.

"That's alright Ser Davos, you're injured. I've asked for some milk of the poppy, it will help you sleep."

"I've asked for some more blankets so I can sleep on the floor, you take the bed."

"It's not necessary Ser Davos, I don't find you attractive so you are…safe" she said the last word with a smile. He'd always thought of himself as a bit of a handsome devil in a rough, common sort of way but pretended he wasn't put out by her comment.

"I'd feel more comfortable."

"As you wish."

There was a knock at the door, the hot water had arrived so he lay on the bed and rested whilst she bathed. He would have slept if it weren't for the pain. He didn't like taking milk of the poppy but he would tonight, she was right, he needed sleep.

Dinner was a subdued affair, well except for Lady Cley not being able to take her eyes of Jon. He was a looker that was for sure and if he wasn't a bastard Davos had no doubt he'd have every eligible Lady in the seven kingdoms after him and probably some of the ineligible ones as well. Most of the conversation focused on how more men were needed, avoiding the subject of the white walkers altogether. House Cerwyn had lost many in the war he learnt, at the Twins mostly and they said they could only offer 250 swords, it was better than a kick in teeth though. They also discussed the larger northern houses and Lord Cley pointed out that the Umber's had been besieged by wildling raids and Jon's brother had taken Lord Karstarks head so they were best avoided. He could tell that really stung Jon but the lad took it on the chin. House Manderley was the largest remaining house so they needed to find out where their loyalties lay.

"I'll go," said Melisandre "I'll ask to see their Lord saying that I'm a Red Priestess and have seen visions of the Starks in the fires."

"Lord Wyman might think you're a spy for the Bolton's" Jon said.

"Then I will tell him I've seen Jon Snow and Sansa Stark at House Reed, if he's loyal to the Bolton's he may tell them but if he's loyal to the Starks he will message Lord Reed, do you not agree?"

"That's a bit dangerous to say the least." Davos was concerned.

"Yes but we need more men. We cannot risk Jon being captured and you are injured."

"You understand we can't give you an escort?" Lord Cley added.

"It will be easier if I go alone. I'll leave in the morning."

Davos wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea but it was the safest option. They went to their warm chambers with full stomachs, a true luxury these days. He'd already made up a bed of blankets on the floor and the fire was roaring. Melisandre poured him a small amount of milk of the poppy, he wondered for a brief moment if it was poison, she'd done it before, but then dismissed it as she seemed to be trying to help so he drank it and settled down for the night. He felt drowsy almost immediately and told himself he'd say his goodbye's to Melisandre in the morning. By the time he woke up, she was gone.


End file.
